The Point of No Return
by Elizabeth5
Summary: Cross-over between the X-Files and Harry Potter. When the X-Files are called upon to investigate strange activity in London, they get more than they bargained for when they run into the world's most famous wizard. HHr, MSR, DSR
1. In Dreams She Comes

The Point of No Return  
  
author: Elizabeth  
  
summary: Cross-over between the X-Files and Harry Potter. When the X-Files are called upon to investigate strange activity in London, they get more than they bargained for when they run into the world's most famous wizard.  
  
ships: H/Hr, M/S, D/S  
  
rating: PG  
  
disclaimer: I don't own HP and I don't own the X-Files. Sadly.  
  
author's note: So, I'm aware that this is pretty bizarre, but I thought I'd give it a shot anyway! For the sake of this fic, we're going to say that Harry, Hermione, and all the X-Files crew are about the same age.  
  
chapter one: In Dreams She Comes  
  
Fear. Pain. A red-haired woman. Green eyes. Running. A terrified scream: "Harry!" A flash of green. A baby. Another pair of green eyes. Raven-black hair. A scar.  
  
With a start, Dana Scully was awake. She took in a deep breath, steadying her pounding heart, her eyes darting about the room. Her first instinct was to rise to find her son William; it took a moment longer to remember that William was no longer there.   
  
Instead, her eyes settled on her other boy. Fox Mulder. He was slumbering peacefully, his face endearingly childlike under the moonlight. She had the sudden urge to wake him and tell him about the dream, but she quickly pushed it aside. Knowing Mulder, he'd come up with some far-fetched explanation and drag her around the world searching for the truth. He'd always been a little trigger happy, but lately he was even more restless than usual. Now that they were no longer part of the X-Files, Mulder seemed to have lost himself. He was antsy, she knew, and it was only a matter of time before he enlisted them on some ill-fated mission. It didn't really matter what the purpose of the expedition was; they all ended the same.  
  
The phone rang, jarring Scully from her thoughts. Frowning, she wondered who could be calling at such a time. It wasn't the lateness of the hour that bothered her, but rather the fact that no one knew where they were. Since they'd gone on the run, Scully had only two contacts: Mulder, and A.D. Skinner. And Skinner would only call if there was an emergency...  
  
With foreboding flooding her veins, Scully reached over in answered the phone. "Hello?"  
  
There was a pause. "Agent Scully?"  
  
Startled, she recognized the voice of her former partner John Doggett. "Agent Doggett? How did you get this number?"  
  
"Skinner gave it to me. Listen, Scully, I need to ask you a favor..."  
  
A few minutes later, Scully hung up the phone and rolled over to face Mulder, who was still slumbering peacefully. Typical male. Gently, she shook his shoulder. He tensed, then sprung to life. "Dana, what is it? What happened?"  
  
"John Doggett just called." Scully informed him. "He wants our help..."  
  
***  
  
Scully spent the next morning cleaning up the hotel room. She was embarrassed to have Doggett and Reyes see the way that she and Mulder lived—motel room to motel room, no roots, no home—but at least the place could be clean when they came. Mulder had just stepped out of the shower when there was a knock on the door.  
  
She felt inexplicably nervous. It was just Doggett and Reyes; she trusted them completely, and they had validated that trust time and time again. Still, she sought out a reassuring smile from Mulder before she opened the door.  
  
There was Monica Reyes, tall and darkly beautiful, dressed in a low-cut brown shirt and black dress pants. Substantially more conservative was John Doggett in his customary suit, his face an odd mixture of hardened veteran and innocent boy.   
  
Scully hesitated, not certain how to proceed. Reyes broke the awkwardness by coming forward and hugging her. "It's so good to see you. You look great."  
  
"You, too." Scully smiled at her as she pulled away, then turned to Doggett. They hugged tentatively. "Long time no see."  
  
"How have you been, Agent Scully?"  
  
She smiled. Only Doggett would insist upon addressing her as Agent Scully though she hadn't been with the FBI for some time now. "I can't complain."  
  
"Good."  
  
Doggett turned to Mulder. There was an awkward moment as they shook hands, muttering a few pleasantries; the men had worked together on occasion, but there still wasn't complete trust between them.  
  
Once the niceties were out of the way and everyone was seated, Scully glanced back and forth between Reyes and Doggett. "You said last night that you needed help on a case," she reminded them.  
  
Reyes glanced over at her partner. "Yes, actually. The thing is, it's rather unusual, even for an X-file."  
  
Scully frowned. "Unusual how?"  
  
"Over the last several years, there have been unexplainable phenomena in London, centering around a certain area." Doggett explained. "There was one instance of a woman ballooning to massive proportions and floating in the air. There was also a report of a flying car at a train station. Those are only a handful of the strange occurrences."  
  
Mulder's face hadn't changed, but Scully could detect his excitement. "Why does this concern us?"  
  
"Like we said," Reyes continued, "these strange activities have been happening for years. A few years ago it all sort of culminated during what can only be described as a battle that occurred on London bridge. There were several reports of strange phenomena—unexplainable flashes of light, indecipherable incantations. By all accounts it appeared to be..." She glanced over at Doggett. "Well, wizardry."  
  
Doggett frowned at this. "We still haven't determined the cause behind it."  
  
Scully folded her arms. "But why does this concern the X-Files? Shouldn't the British government be handling the situation?"  
  
"They've tried," Reyes informed her. "They've spent the last several years attempting to explain these occurrences, but they can't."  
  
Scully smiled wryly. "So they called on the X-Files for backup."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Mulder sighed and leaned back in his chair. "This is all very interesting, but I don't really see how it concerns Scully and me. We aren't the X-Files anymore, remember?"   
  
There was a trace of bitterness in his voice. Scully glanced at him and frowned; this was just the sort of thing that Mulder had been waiting for. So why was he suddenly so reticent?  
  
Doggett shook his head. "This sort of thing is out of my league. I don't really have what most people would call an open mind."  
  
Reyes exchanged a smile with Scully.  
  
Not noticing this—or perhaps just ignoring it—Doggett continued, "And while Reyes is much more liberal in her thinking, she doesn't really have much experience in witchcraft. There were really only two agents on file in the FBI who had at least some background in this sort of thing." He looked at them pointedly.  
  
Mulder grinned despite himself. "Well, say it's true. Say Scully and I could help you. We sort of have this tiny little problem of having to pretend we're dead. Going on reconnaissance with the FBI won't exactly keep us low-profile."  
  
Reyes smiled as though she had been expecting this. "We've already covered that with A.D. Skinner. He's arranged for fake identifications to be made, and you two will be traveling separately so that no one can link you to us."  
  
Scully couldn't help but be impressed. "I'm surprised you don't have our bags packed and ready for us."   
  
Reyes gave a light shrug. "Give us a few a minutes..."  
  
Scully folded her arms, suspicious. "Why do I get the feeling that there's some ulterior motive behind this?"  
  
Doggett folded his arms. "Skinner did mention something to the effect of it being our duty to get you out of this dingy motel room for a while."  
  
Scully smiled. Good ol' Skinner. It would be so nice to get out of hiding for a while, to travel and be part of an investigation again. She loved Mulder and it was great to be with him, but it would be so nice to have other human beings to talk to...  
  
At the thought, she glanced over at Mulder, realizing that he was watching her. She met his gaze and they communicated silently with one another, as they had been doing for the past several years. He was hesitant, she knew, but he could see how much she wanted this. Finally, he sighed and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"  
  
Reyes gave a half-smile. "Now that's enthusiasm."  
  
Scully's mind was reeling, and suddenly she was all business. They had purpose again. They had a case. She hadn't realized until this moment how much she missed it. "All right. What else can you tell us? Do we have any leads, any names?"  
  
"Only one," Doggett said, pulling a file folder from his brief case and flipping it open. "Through all the investigations, the British government was only able to come up with one name connected to all of these bizarre events: Harry Potter."  
  
***  
  
In London...  
  
Harry Potter waited as his long-time best friend Hermione Granger finished the last of her papers. He'd been sitting in her classroom good-naturedly for the last half hour, but his patience was beginning to wane. Finally, it was too much, and he grabbed her about the waist, pulling her to her feet. "Come on, Professor Granger. It's time to take a break..."  
  
"Just one more paper, Harry" Hermione protested as he dragged her toward the door, "I'm almost finished."  
  
"You've been saying that for the last thirty minutes," Harry reminded her. "And we need to leave now before Ron and Luna think we're lying dead in a ditch somewhere."  
  
Hermione sighed, relenting. "You're right, you're right--"  
  
"As always."  
  
She flashed him an amused look and continued, "I can finish grading papers when I get back."  
  
"Grading papers on a Saturday evening, Hermione? My, you do live a varied and exciting social life."  
  
Hermione smiled at him reproachfully. "It's no worse than your social life, Harry. Don't think I don't know that you spend your weekends on the Quidditch pitch. We're both horrible workaholics."  
  
Harry flushed at this. How did she manage to keep tabs on him like that? Reluctantly, he sighed, conceding. "When did we become so pathetic, Hermione? Remember when we used to be saving the world every other weekend?"  
  
"We still make a difference," Hermione protested, grinning at him impishly. "I'm teaching the world and you're...entertaining it."  
  
Harry laughed but quickly felt the smile fading from his face. Was that what it had come to? Was he wasting his time playing Quidditch when there were so many other important things he could be doing? After finally defeating Voldemort all those years ago, he'd been offered countless jobs—at the Ministry, the International Wizarding Society, even Hogwarts. Did Hermione look down on him for not taking any of those more respectable routes...?  
  
"Hey." Her voice brought him back to reality, just as it always had. "I didn't mean anything by that, Harry. You've been saving the world since you were born. You've paid your dues. It's about time that you had a little fun."  
  
Harry sighed, then nodded. "Thanks, Hermione."  
  
As they continued down the corner, she took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze, and suddenly there was a whole new world of confusion. *It's natural to enjoy holding your best friend's hand*, he told himself. *There's nothing wrong with that, nothing weird...*  
  
Suddenly, the lights in the entire building seemed to dim, and there was a low hum resonating through the corridors. Harry turned to Hermione, frowning. "What's going on?"  
  
Hermione released his hand, hurrying to the window. "I don't believe it," she breathed.  
  
Harry was growing more and more concerned. "What? What is it?"  
  
Hermione turned to him, her delicate features narrowed into a frown. "There are Muggles on the grounds."  
  
***  
  
Scully was trying not to feel too touristy, but she'd never been to London before and she was fascinated. The accents, the sights, the cars. She felt positively giddy, and that hadn't happened—precluding drug or supernatural inducement—since college. Still, she somehow managed to keep a composed face, sensing intuitively that her fellow agents might become rather unnerved at the sight of a carefree and rambunctious Scully.  
  
They'd stopped only briefly at a hotel to drop their things off—Scully and Mulder were none too eager to return to a hotel room any time soon—and spent the majority of the morning speaking to British government officials. While she was attempting desperately to cover her awe at their culture, Mulder seemed to have no such repercussions.  
  
"Hey," Mulder said, interrupting one of the detectives from Scotland Yard, "can you do me a favor? Say something British, like shagging or brawly or bloody."  
  
The detective merely blinked at him.  
  
Later, as they headed to a home in London to do some investigating, Scully smiled at Mulder and reached out to finger the British flag baseball cap that he'd purchased. "You are aware that you're acting like an annoying American tourist," she pointed out.  
  
He grinned at her and shrugged. "Your point being...?"  
  
Scully grinned in return and turned her gaze toward the front of the car. She caught a brief flash of Doggett watching her in the rearview mirror, but his gaze was immediately redirected to the road, and she wondered a moment later if she'd only imagined it.  
  
A few minutes later, they arrived at the Dursley home. Reyes stepped out of the car, glancing down at the case files in her hand. "Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley," she read aloud, eyebrow raised. "Very...interesting names."  
  
"Dudley?" Mulder echoed.   
  
Doggett shook his head. "Now that's just cruel..."  
  
They reached the front door and rang the bell. A moment later, a bone-thin, horse faced woman was standing at the door, eying them nervously. "Can I help you?"  
  
Reyes stepped forward, giving a polite smile. "Mrs. Petunia Dursley?" The woman nodded. "We're with the American Federal Bureau of Investigation. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions."  
  
Petunia tugged nervously at the collar of her dress. "We aren't in trouble, are we? Dudley never stole from those children—those were all lies."  
  
Mulder looked as though he could barely suppress his laughter. "We're actually here in regards to a man named Harry Potter. Ring a bell?"  
  
"Never heard the name before in my life," Petunia said quickly, and suddenly she looked extremely nervous. "Besides, he hasn't lived here for years."  
  
Scully raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you'd never heard of him."  
  
Doggett cleared his throat. "Ma'am, you aren't in any sort of trouble, and neither is Mr. Potter. We just want to speak with him to ask a few questions concerning some paranormal activity."  
  
A sudden thought seemed to strike Petunia. "You said you're with the government? So if Harry or anyone he knew was doing anything illegal or out of the ordinary, you'd put a stop to it?"  
  
Reyes exchanged a glance with her partner. "Mrs. Dursley, I know it isn't easy to turn in a loved one, but I assure you that--"  
  
"Oh, yes," Petunia said quickly, " it's terribly hard, but I'm sure it's for his own good." She grabbed a file folder from Reyes's hand and began to scribble down some directions. "You might not be able to see him, but he's there. And if he isn't, then there's plenty of his kind around..."  
  
Back in the car, Scully frowned as she recounted the conversation with Mrs. Dursley in her mind. "That was...rather unusual." she said finally. "She sounded as though she couldn't wait for us to apprehend her nephew."  
  
Doggett shrugged. "Maybe she's just a law-abiding citizen."  
  
"I don't think so." Reyes chimed in. She glanced back at Scully. "Do you think it might be a setup?"  
  
Scully sighed. "I don't know. But we should definitely keep our eyes open..."  
  
Doggett pulled to a stop in front of an abandoned wasteland of some sort. There was a huge barbed-wire fence and various signs warning of biohazards. He frowned and double-checked the directions. "According to Mrs. Dursley, this is the place."  
  
Scully sighed. "Looks like we have been set up."  
  
She glanced over at Mulder and saw with some surprise that he was staring out of the window in rapture, as though he had never seen anything so magnificent in his life. "You guys are kidding me, right?" he sputtered finally. "Look at that place!"  
  
Scully glanced back at the dump, then back at Mulder. "It's a dump, Mulder."  
  
But Mulder was climbing out of the car, his eyes filled with wonder. He shaded his eyes from the sun, wandering closer. "I've never seen anything like it..."  
  
The rest followed after him. Doggett looked over at Mulder dubiously. "You've never seen a dump before?"  
  
"That's not a dump!" Mulder insisted. "It's a castle, and there's this huge tree and a lake...and what looks like some elaborate stadium..."  
  
Doggett folded his arms, exchanging a glance with Scully before looking back to Mulder. "What's the game, Agent Mulder? There's obviously nothing there."  
  
He looked over to Reyes to confirm this, but she had an odd expression on her face and was squinting at the area in front of her. "I'm getting a strange feeling from this place," she said. "Almost like...electricity? Not quite, but something like that...something almost tangible..."  
  
Doggett turned his gaze to Scully. "All I see is a dump."  
  
Scully glanced back, her eyes widening. "Agent Doggett." She motioned ahead.  
  
Out of nowhere, it seemed, two figures had appeared in the midst of the dump and were watching them with obvious reserve on their faces. One was a pretty woman with thick, unruly brown hair, and the other was a tall man with dark hair and glasses.  
  
***  
  
I thrive on reviews--don't make me starve! 


	2. TrustSomeone?

The Point of No Return  
  
author: Elizabeth  
  
summary: Cross-over between the X-Files and Harry Potter. When the X-Files are called upon to investigate strange activity in London, they get more than they bargained for when they run into the world's most famous wizard.  
  
ships: H/Hr, M/S, D/S  
  
rating: PG  
  
disclaimer: I don't own HP and I don't own the X-Files. Sadly.  
  
A/n: Thanks for all of the reviews so far! Thanks for the heads up on the mistakes. I do not profess to be an expert on either the X-Files or Harry Potter, so there are bound to be a few little errors, but I'll try to make everything as "authentic" as possible. For those of you reading on Portkey, I'm sorry if there are some formatting problems but I'm completely computer illiterate and don't really know how to fix it! Anyway, the point of that rambling was...hope you enjoy!  
  
chapter two: Trust...Someone?  
  
They'd been interrogating the suspects for the last hour, and the only information that they'd managed to get out of them was that the man was Harry Potter and the woman was Hermione Granger, both from London. Reyes and Scully were currently interviewing Ms. Granger while Doggett and Mulder tried their luck with Mr. Potter, although it didn't seem to be getting them very far.  
  
"Your name has come up a number of times in investigating some strange paranormal activity," Doggett informed him for what must have been the third or fourth time. Harry remained silent. "There was a particular case at the London bridge a few years ago. Do you have anything to say about that, Mr. Potter?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"What were you doing in that abandoned dump?" Doggett inquired, leaning up against the wall, his arms folded.  
  
Harry glared at him. "Sight-seeing."  
  
Doggett raised an eyebrow. "In a dump?"  
  
Harry held his gaze steadily. "There's no law against that, is there?"  
  
"It wasn't a dump." Mulder spoke up from the doorway. He met Harry's gaze steadily. "It was a castle—I saw it."  
  
There was a flicker of something in Harry's green eyes, but his face remained expressionless. "Are you a Squib?" he inquired after a moment.  
  
Mulder blinked at him. "A what?"  
  
"Never mind."  
  
Doggett frowned at this but didn't press the matter. "Mr. Potter, I'm going to give you one last chance to give us some help. Anything. Otherwise, we're not going to be very lenient when we learn the truth—and we will learn the truth."  
  
Harry stared at him, unblinking.  
  
Mulder stepped forward, scratching the back of his head. "It's funny because your friend next door doesn't seem so hesitant about giving information. In fact, she's being pretty darn talkative."  
  
"Agent Mulder," Doggett said warningly.  
  
"She said something about witches and wizards," Mulder continued, never breaking eye contact with Harry. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"  
  
"Mulder," Doggett snapped. "Outside. Now."  
  
They walked out of the room. Mulder turned to face him. "What was that all about? He was just about to talk."  
  
"I've interrogated plenty of suspects in my time," Doggett reminded him, "and I can read them pretty well. That guy is about two seconds away from snapping, and intuition tells me that we don't want to be around when that happens. Lying about his friend was stupid and unprofessional. He's clearly protective of her, to the point where he might do something desperate if he thought she was in danger. Think next time, Agent Mulder."  
  
He turned and headed back toward the room. Mulder looked after him, frowning. "What are you going to do?"  
  
"I'm letting him go," Doggett called over his shoulder. "We don't have anything to hold him on, and he's not going to talk. Not now, at any rate."  
  
Mulder frowned but silently listened on as Doggett told Harry he could leave. At almost the same moment, the door to the other room opened and Hermione Granger stepped out, looking tired and visibly worried. At the sight of Harry, her face flooded with relief, and even the comatose Harry seemed to soften at the sight of his friend. They turned and began to leave the building together.  
  
"Nice scar," Mulder called after him. Harry tensed but didn't turn around. Mulder turned to make another comment to his contemporaries and was surprised to see that Scully's face had grown ashen.  
  
"Scar?" she repeated. Tentatively, she took a step toward the retreating figures of Harry and Hermione. "Wait! Please?" They continued walking. Desperately, Scully called out, "Your mother's name was Lily!"  
  
Harry and Hermione both stopped. Scully clutched at her abdomen, her face troubled. "She had red hair and green eyes. She died protecting you."  
  
Slowly, Harry turned around, suspicion and curiosity written clearly in his green eyes. "Who are you?" he inquired.  
  
***  
  
Hermione sighed, relaxing into Harry's sofa, listening as he recounted as sparsely as he could the wizarding world to these strangers. They had learned that the red haired woman—Agent Scully—was having nightly dreams about Harry's mother for reasons that she couldn't quite explain. And despite her logical judgment, Hermione found herself backing Harry in trusting these people. There was something about them...almost as though they had been meant to meet, though she had never placed much stock in fate or destiny.  
  
Agent Doggett was the skeptic in the bunch, she could tell, and he leaned forward with a frown on his face. "Let me get this straight...people who aren't magic are called beagles--"  
  
"Muggles," Hermione corrected him.  
  
"Muggles," Doggett repeated, "and people who don't have magical powers but can see magical things are called Squibs."  
  
Mulder glanced over at Harry, looking as though he was trying not to be pleased with himself. "That's what you thought I was."  
  
Beside him, Agent Scully rolled her eyes. "Don't let it go to your head."  
  
Agent Reyes was holding her coffee cup, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. "And the place we saw you at was a magical school, only there are spells so that people can't see it and become distracted if they do stumble across it so that they can't remember it, right?" Harry and Hermione nodded. "Then why was Agent Mulder able to see it? And why weren't the rest of us distracted?"  
  
"We don't know," Hermione said, shrugging. "That's never happened before."  
  
Scully seemed to be pondering this. "Maybe...maybe we were meant to see you. Maybe we're all connected somehow."  
  
Doggett looked troubled by this but didn't say anything.  
  
"I don't think there's much maybe about it," Harry spoke up. "You've been having dreams about my mother, about me. That can't be a coincidence. I guess the real question is why."  
  
Hermione met his gaze. "Dumbledore." they said together.  
  
Reyes raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"  
  
"He's a very powerful wizard," Hermione explained as Harry stood up to find Hedwig, "If anyone can explain this, it's him."  
  
Doggett leaned forward. "Well, while you're contacting Bumblebee or whatever his name is, I'd like to have a few things explained myself. I'm still not entirely convinced that I believe this magic mumbo-jumbo."  
  
Hermione smiled at him. "Believe me, I don't blame you. If I hadn't experienced it myself, I would probably be the worst skeptic among you. But there are some ways we can prove it, if you'd like."  
  
"I'd like," Agent Doggett said, folding his arms.  
  
Hermione pulled out her wand, aiming it toward a book on the coffee table. "Wingardium leviosa." she said crisply. The book levitated into the air.  
  
Scully exchanged a glance with Doggett. "That's very impressive," she said politely, "but it's not anything more than a few carefully placed magnets or wires could do--"  
  
Hermione closed her eyes and apparated herself to the other side of the couch. After waiting a moment, she apparated to the windowsill, then back to her original seat. She had their full attention now. Mulder was grinning like a kid in a candy store, Reyes and Scully were staring with wide eyes, and even Doggett seemed visibly stunned.  
  
"How did you..." he began, "...what did you...?"  
  
Hermione smiled at him sweetly. "I could show you some more, if you'd like."   
  
Reyes finally managed to close her gaping jaw. "I think we'll be satisfied with that."  
  
Mulder looked vaguely disappointed. "For now..."  
  
Harry re-entered the room. "I sent off the letter to Dumbledore," he informed Hermione. "I'm sure we'll hear back from him as soon as we can."   
  
He sat down next to Hermione, viewing their visitors with an eagerness that she hadn't seen in him for quite some time. With a start, she realized what all of this must mean to Harry. These people could possibly have a connection to his family; he'd been without his parents for so long that he'd probably lost all hope of ever learning more about them, and now there was a woman here who might be able to tell him about his mother. It was the sort of thing he'd always wanted.  
  
"So, you're with a special branch of the government that investigates weird phenomena," Harry prompted. "You must have seen some pretty exciting things in your time."  
  
Mulder shrugged modestly. "Well, you know. We've seen our fair share of the weird and bizarre."  
  
Hermione couldn't help but be skeptical; what did a group of Muggles know about weird and bizarre? "I doubt you've seen anything stranger than Harry and me."  
  
Mulder's eyes glinted. "A man who can stretch himself thin enough to fit through any crack and feeds off of liver so that he can hibernate for thirty years." he challenged.  
  
Harry folded his arms. "A man possessed by an evil wizard growing out of the back of his head."  
  
"A monster that lives in sewers and port-a-potties," Mulder countered.  
  
"A giant snake that travels through sewer pipes and can kill people by looking into their eyes."  
  
"A man whose shadow kills people on contact."  
  
"A massive three-headed dog named Fluffy."  
  
"Vampires."  
  
"Werewolves."  
  
"Aliens."  
  
"Unicorns."  
  
"Mutants that feed off peoples' brains."  
  
"Woman who can change her hair color, face shape, and body type through pure will."  
  
As Mulder opened his mouth to reply, Agent Doggett cleared his throat. "I was killed, eaten, spit back up, and miraculously given my life back," he spoke up.  
  
Everyone merely stared at him. He shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I was."  
  
Harry frowned glumly. " I think that wins."  
  
"Yeah," Mulder agreed, just as morose.  
  
Hermione smiled at this and then turned to the others, her inner hostess kicking into gear. "Well, until we hear from Dumbledore, there isn't really much we can do. But you're all free to stay here. Agent Mulder and Agent Doggett can stay in the basement, and Agent Reyes and Agent Scully can stay in the guest room."  
  
Scully and Reyes exchanged a glance. "We don't want to impose on you." Reyes said quickly.  
  
"You're not imposing on me," Hermione returned. "It's very possible that you can help Harry learn more about his past, and you're welcome here. Besides, this is Harry's house, not mine."  
  
The others still looked somewhat reticent, but Hermione sensed that Agent Scully was warming to the idea of staying in a home. "That sounds wonderful," she said, "thank you."  
  
As the agents began to make arrangements to gather their things, Hermione pulled Harry aside. "Sorry to volunteer your house like that, but I figured you'd want them to stay but that you'd be too shy to ask."  
  
"It's no problem." Harry said, though he still seemed troubled. He cleared his throat. "So, um, do you want me to owl you when we find out more from Dumbledore?"  
  
Hermione merely blinked at him. "Harry James Potter, do you honestly think I'm not going to stay here and wait this out?"  
  
Harry's face broke into a grin. "You don't mind, then?"  
  
"Of course I'm going to stay," Hermione said, torn between the urge to hug and shake him. Harry could be so very dense sometimes. "Aside from the fact that I apparently have no problem inviting people to stay in your home—myself included— and aside from the fact that we really don't know these people who could be rather dangerous despite seeming lovely, I'm your best friend, Harry. I'm not going to abandon you when one of the most potentially important things in your life is happening. I'm sure Dumbledore can find someone to cover for me at the school."  
  
Impulsively, Harry leaned forward and crushed her in his embrace. "You're kind of wonderful, you know that?"  
  
Hermione fought the flush threatening to form on her cheeks. "Well, yes, I was rather aware of the fact..."  
  
***  
  
That night after dinner, Hermione's stomach felt delightfully full, and she stood and began gathering the various plates around her. Agent Doggett rose to his feet, politely helping her with the dishes.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Hermione said quickly, "you're a guest here."  
  
Doggett merely smiled at her. "It's no problem."  
  
A moment later, they were in the kitchen, both carrying rather large stacks of dishes. Doggett set his load in the sink and began to push up his sleeves.   
  
" No need for that," Hermione assured him.  
  
Doggett met her gaze determinedly. "I don't mind helping, Ms. Granger. It's the least I can do--"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No, I mean...no need." She pulled out her wand and gave it a little flick. Instantly, the dishes began to wash themselves.  
  
Doggett frowned at this, though his eyes looked amused. "Well, that sure is the lazy way out." He shook his head ruefully. "I think I'm kind of jealous."  
  
"Don't be too jealous," Hermione returned kindly, "spells don't do all of our chores for us. I've tried everything I can think of to get the toilet to wash itself, but the stubborn little buggar just won't do it."   
  
He laughed, and Hermione took the opportunity to admire him. Agent Doggett really was a handsome man, particularly when he smiled. There was an odd mixture of the rough and the gentle about him; she sensed intuitively that he'd suffered a great deal in his life. He reminded her suddenly of Harry.  
  
"Are you married, Agent Doggett?" Hermione inquired, almost before she had realized what she was saying. Seeing the surprise in his eyes, she quickly added, "Don't worry, I'm not making a pass at you or anything...I'm just curious."  
  
"Too bad." Doggett returned, smiling good-naturedly. He glanced down at his left hand. "I, um, I was married. A few years ago. We divorced."  
  
"I'm sorry." Hermione said softly. Trying to cheer him up, she inquired, "Are there any mini-Doggetts running around?"  
  
Doggett looked away. "I had a son. Luke. He was murdered. Hence the divorce."  
  
Hermione felt positively atrocious now. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, " I didn't mean to..."  
  
He shrugged. "You didn't know." His face remained troubled for a moment, and then he forced a smile. "Besides, this gives me the excuse to ask you a few questions."  
  
Hermione smiled at him, folding her arms. "I should've known you were too good to be true. Any man who offers to help with the dishes always has ulterior motives."  
  
"Guilty as charged." Doggett grinned at her and shrugged, then became business-like once more. "I was wondering if you could tell me about that night on the London Bridge. The one that caused all the ruckus."  
  
Hermione sighed. "I was afraid you might ask that." She glanced toward the kitchen door, her mind wandering involuntarily back to that night. "Harry would never tell you this, but he's quite special in our world. There was an evil and powerful wizard named Voldemort who was determined to purify the wizarding community—get rid of all the Mudbloods, so to speak."  
  
"Sort of like Hitler," Doggett commented.  
  
The ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. "Yes, something like that. Anyway, suffice it to say, Harry's been fighting against this wizard almost single-handedly since the time he was a baby. He would win the battles, but Voldemort kept coming back for more. Until that night on the London Bridge.  
  
"Harry and Voldemort finally had the big showdown there, and Harry was able to defeat him once and for all. However because of the rather public place, a lot of the news leaked out to the Muggle world. Fortunately, they didn't seem to have much of an explanation for what had happened, and we thought that the Muggles had finally dropped everything..."  
  
"Until we came." Doggett finished for her. His face looked grim. "We didn't come here to make trouble for Harry, or anyone else."  
  
"I know." Hermione said, sighing. "But I'm afraid that you'll end up causing trouble anyway. You don't know what it means that Harry and I told you so many details about our world. That sort of thing isn't really encouraged."  
  
Doggett was silent for a moment, taking this all in. "Well, it seems inadequate to say, but I'm thankful that you trusted us enough to tell us the truth. And I promise you that I'll do whatever is in my power to protect you."  
  
"It's not me I worry about." Hermione informed him honestly. "It's Harry."  
  
Doggett searched her face. "You care about him a lot, don't you?"  
  
She smiled at this, losing herself in memory. "Yes...yes, I care very much. He's everything to me. He's my world."  
  
Doggett followed her gaze to the kitchen door, an odd sadness haunting his eyes. "Must be nice," he said softly.  
  
***  
  
Scully leaned back in her chair contently. It seemed like ages since she'd last had a home cooked meal, and Harry definitely hadn't disappointed. For a young male bachelor, he certainly knew his way around the kitchen.  
  
Reflecting on this, Scully's gaze wandered down the table to where Harry and Reyes were busy discussing the intricacies of Hogwarts. She noted that even when he smiled, there was a darkness in Harry's eyes, a sadness. Mystery hung around him, emanating almost tangibly from him.  
  
"Dana."  
  
Scully glanced over, seeing that Mulder was watching her with concern evident in his features. She frowned and took his hand. "Mulder, what is it?"  
  
He took in a deep breath, seeming to search for the right words. "Let me just first say that I'm not trying to sound like some overly possessive boyfriend."  
  
Scully winced at the word. Boyfriend seemed such an inadequate, trivial phrase for everything they'd been through together. It couldn't nearly begin to encompass the love she felt for this man, the trust and the hope and the passion.  
  
Moving past this, she sensed the meaning behind his words. "You're wondering why I didn't tell you about the dreams." Mulder nodded. She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I guess I was afraid you'd look too deep into it."  
  
Mulder shrugged, looking vaguely irritated. "But this wasn't some random dream about going to work without shoes on or riding a pony at the fair—this was a vision into another person's life. A vision that you had repeatedly. That seems like the sort of thing we should share."  
  
Scully raised an eyebrow. "And you always share everything with me, Mulder?" He looked away, and she knew that she should let it go, but still her mouth continued to move. "What are those secret phone calls you receive when you think I'm asleep? Who do you run off to meet with when I go to the bathroom or take a shower?"  
  
Mulder looked as though he was about to snap at her, but instead he grabbed her hands and kissed her fingertips. "Dana, I didn't mean to imply that I don't trust you. I do. But I'm worried about you. I'm worried about what could happen to you."  
  
"I can take care of myself." Scully reminded him. She wanted to remind him of all the times she'd taken care of herself without him there, but she didn't.  
  
"I know." Mulder said softly. He kissed her forehead. "Just be careful, all right?"  
  
Scully didn't answer.  
  
***  
  
I thrive on reviews--don't make me starve! 


	3. Visitors

The Point of No Return  
  
author: Elizabeth  
  
summary: Cross-over between the X-Files and Harry Potter. When the X-Files are called upon to investigate strange activity in London, they get more than they bargained for when they run into the world's most famous wizard.  
  
ships: H/Hr, M/S, D/S  
  
rating: PG  
  
disclaimer: I don't own HP and I don't own the X-Files. Sadly.  
  
chapter three: Visitors  
  
Harry lay in bed that night, his body utterly exhausted but his mind unable to sleep. His brain was alive with a thousand different thoughts, each pulling him on a roller coaster of emotions. Was it possible that his mother was trying to contact him, to tell him something? And if so, what? And why did she choose to contact a random stranger instead of him directly? It was all very confusing, and he had just about resigned himself to getting absolutely no sleep that night when there was a knock on the door.  
  
Frowning, he sat up and reached for his glasses. "Who is it?"  
  
"It's me, Hermione."  
  
"Come in."  
  
Hermione hurried into the room, clad in a rather embarrassingly cute pair of pajamas with Strawberry Shortcake material. Harry grinned at this. "Nice pajamas, Hermione."  
  
She might have been blushing, but it was hard to tell in the darkness of the room. "I hardly think you're one to talk, Harry," she retorted, "I didn't know Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle boxers were coming back into style."  
  
Harry cleared his throat, suddenly flustered. "Did you have something you wanted to talk to me about?"  
  
She ventured closer to the bed, her face suddenly serious. "I realized that throughout all of this, I haven't asked you how you're feeling. This must all be very confusing."  
  
Merlin—how did she do that?  
  
"Anyway," Hermione continued, " I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for you, Harry. If you want to talk—about anything—just let me know."  
  
She was shivering through the thin material of her pajamas, and it was becoming quite distracting. Harry lifted up the covers, motioning for her to join him. "Come on."  
  
Hermione hesitated, but only for a moment, and then she slid into bed beside him. Gradually, her shivering began to lessen. "You're warm," she informed him.  
  
They stayed like that for a moment, a comfortable silence descending over them. After a few minutes had passed, Hermione met his gaze earnestly. "Tell me what's bothering you, Harry. I want to help."  
  
Harry sighed, trying to put his thoughts into words. "I'm glad to have this connection to my mother," he began, "Really, I am. But I just can't help but wonder..."  
  
"...why she didn't choose you." Hermione finished for him. She was silent for a moment, pondering this. "Maybe that wasn't an option, Harry. Maybe she's communicating with you the only way she knows how."  
  
He'd thought the same thing, but it was nice to have it verified from her lips. Yet despite that assurance, there were still so many questions...  
  
Hermione frowned, studying his features. "There's something more, isn't there?"  
  
"I'm afraid that this is a bad sign." Harry said quietly. "I'm afraid my mother is trying to warn me that something horrible is about to happen."  
  
He thought of what he would do if something happened to Hermione or Ron or any of the people he loved, and he became so overwhelmingly afraid that he had to clench his fists to keep from crying out. He'd lived without love for so long in his life, and he understood more than most how precious it was to have people he cared for and people who cared for him. The thought of losing that again was terrifying.  
  
"That could be true," Hermione returned honestly. "She might be warning you, Harry. But until we hear from Dumbledore, we won't know for sure. So try not to worry about it."  
  
He gave out a short bitter laugh. "I wish I could be brave like you, Hermione."  
  
Hermione stared at him incredulously. "Brave, like me? Harry, you're the bravest person I know."  
  
Harry shook his head. "There's too much fear inside of me to ever truly be brave."  
  
"You are brave, Harry," Hermione insisted, "but you're human, too. We all have our fears."  
  
"Even you?"  
  
"Especially me."  
  
They smiled at one another. Hermione sat up suddenly, self-consciously tucking a strand of hair behind one ear. "I should get back to bed. Goodnight, Harry."  
  
"Goodnight," he said, watching as she left.  
  
He missed her instantly.  
  
***  
  
Scully turned uncomfortably in the bed she was sharing with Reyes. It felt strange to be sleeping without Mulder. Even though she wasn't exactly thrilled with him at the moment, she was accustomed to having him at her side, hearing his deep, resonating snores that he vehemently denied any existence of.   
  
"Are you awake?"  
  
Scully jumped, clutching at her throat. "Geez, Monica. You scared the heck out of me."  
  
"Sorry," Reyes returned good-naturedly, "but at least that means you're awake."  
  
Scully smiled despite herself. "Something bothering you, Agent Reyes?"  
  
Reyes shifted to face her. "I was just thinking—it's been a long time since I've had some good old fashioned girl talk."  
  
"Girl talk?" Scully repeated dubiously.   
  
"Surely you know what girl talk is," Reyes teased her.   
  
Scully shifted indignantly. "Of course I do. I just didn't think that you of all people would be suggesting it."  
  
Reyes grinned at her, her dark eyes sparkling mischievously. "Come on, it'll be fun. We can share our innermost secrets and have a real bonding experience."  
  
"And I suppose we can braid each other's hair and paint each other's nails, too," Scully suggested dryly.  
  
A moment later, they were out of bed and were taking turns braiding each others' hair and painting each others' nails. Monica put a mouthful of the Skittles she'd smuggled along the trip into her mouth and grinned at Scully. "See Dana, isn't this fun?"  
  
"Riveting." Scully returned. Truth be told, she WAS having fun, and it was a little frightening how much she was enjoying herself.  
  
Reyes grinned at her impishly. "So...what do you think about Harry?"  
  
Scully shrugged slightly. " I don't know...he seems nice enough. A little withdrawn, but he seems the type that warms up the more you get to know him--"  
  
Reyes shook her head. "No, I mean, isn't he gorgeous? Those eyes, that lean build...and the accent!" She let out a melodramatic sigh and poured more Skittles into her mouth.  
  
Scully smiled at this. "You like accents, huh?"  
  
"British accents," Reyes corrected her. "There's something so indescribably sexy about a British accent..."  
  
"What about a New York accent?" Scully teased her with a lightness she didn't quite feel.  
  
Reyes frowned at her, taking a moment to process the words. "What, you mean Doggett? No. I don't really think of him that way."  
  
It was Scully's turn to frown. "You two seemed to be getting cozy right before I left. What happened?"  
  
Reyes shrugged. "Oh, you know...I love John, don't get me wrong, but we don't really click that way. We tried it for a while but it sort of crashed and burned. Two different worlds and all that. Besides, I think he was still hung up on someone else."  
  
There was the hint of what could have turned into an uncomfortable silence, but Reyes was suddenly all-business. "Here, turn around so I can redo your braid. It's falling out." Scully obediently complied. Reyes busied herself for a moment, then inquired, "So how is everything going with Mulder?"  
  
Scully was suddenly very glad that Reyes couldn't see her face. "Oh, you know. It's going pretty good. Considering that we're living in a motel room twenty-four seven."  
  
Reyes gave a deep sigh "I envy what you two have."   
  
Scully frowned. "Did you not just hear the part where we never leave the stupid motel room?"  
  
"Yes," Reyes laughed, "and the only way you could get by is if you really loved each other. That says something. You two are living off love."  
  
Scully was silent, pondering this. They were living off love? It sounded so hopelessly cheesy, and yet...  
  
That Reyes could be surprisingly insightful at times.  
  
  
  
***  
  
The next morning, everyone gathered in the dining room for breakfast. Scully and Reyes looked unusually tired but rather decorative with wavy hair and newly painted finger and toenails, but otherwise the morning was already proving to be an uneventful one.  
  
As they seated themselves at the table, Harry glanced to Scully uncertainly. "Did you have any new dreams last night, Agent Scully?"  
  
Scully exchanged a brief glance with Reyes. "Truth be told, I didn't get much sleep. My roommate talks in her sleep."  
  
Reyes, who was sipping from her orange juice, choked but refrained from commenting.  
  
They had just begun to pass around the food when the door burst open and in stormed a red-haired, red-faced Ron. He marched immediately over to Harry, his eyes livid. "What do you think you're doing?"  
  
"Eating breakfast," Harry stammered through a mouthful of pancakes.  
  
"Eating breakfast?" Ron thundered. "EATING BREAKFAST?"  
  
Hermione looked at him worriedly. "Yes, Ron, I think we've established that he's eating breakfast."  
  
Ron rounded on her. "Don't even get me started with you, Hermione. What on Earth are the two of you thinking?"  
  
Harry was trying very hard to keep a straight face now. "That you do a surprisingly good impression of your mum."  
  
Ron was not in the mood. "Do the two of you even remember that you were supposed to be at my house last night for dinner?"  
  
Hermione groaned, the memory flooding back to her. "Ron, we're so sorry—we completely forgot..."  
  
But Ron was not about to be cowed so easily. "We sat there waiting all night and there wasn't even so much as an owl letting us know that you were all right. I thought you'd died! I had dozens of the men from the ministry searching all over London for you!"  
  
Harry exchanged a quick frown with Hermione. "Why didn't you just try checking the house?"  
  
The thought had apparently never crossed Ron's mind. He frowned at them. "Well, I...you see...that is not the point! The point is that Luna and I were worried sick and you should have had the decency to at least owl!"  
  
With that said, he took in a breath and seemed to realize for the first time that there were other people in the room. Sheepishly, he looked about at the strangers. "Hi, Ron Weasley." As his gaze fell upon Reyes, a goofy grin crossed his face. "Hello..."  
  
Doggett glanced over at Reyes, amused, but she pointedly ignored him. "Hi. I'm Monica Reyes."  
  
Ron reached out to shake her hand then seemed to think better of it. "I'm married," he said quickly, and glanced expectantly to the still open front door.  
  
A moment later, Luna Lovegood Weasley wandered into the room, staring with apparent fascination at the house although she'd been there dozens of times before. "You could use a few gardenias," she commented before joining Ron. Her gaze immediately took in the new strangers, and she blinked at them with an expressionless face.  
  
"Ron, Luna, these are Agents Mulder, Scully, Doggett, and Reyes." Harry said, and then proceeded to tell them the entire story of what had taken place the day before.  
  
When he was done, Ron stared at him. "That's...that's bloody insane, that's what it is." He took a moment longer to process this, then grabbed a chair for himself and his wife. "Well, what are we eating then?"  
  
An hour later, everyone was sitting about the living room, exchanging tales of their amazing feats. Harry, Hermione, and Ron reminisced about the good old days at Hogwarts, and Mulder told about the early days at the X-Files with Scully occasionally breaking in to correct him. Doggett, Luna, and Reyes stayed mostly quiet, although Reyes would occasionally throw in one of her own stories as Doggett listened on in quiet but open skepticism.  
  
When most of the really interesting stories had been told, the conversation began to branch off into groups. Perhaps feeling a bit embarrassed about his earlier interest, Ron turned to Reyes and pulled out his wallet. "I have a son—Arthur. He'll be two in a few months."  
  
Smiling, Reyes took the wallet and stared at the picture. Arthur was an incredibly cute little boy with his red hair and bright blue eyes, but what grabbed her attention was the fact that the picture was...well, moving.  
  
"Did someone spike the orange juice?" Reyes inquired, frowning at the wallet.  
  
Beside her, Doggett leaned over to look at the picture. He blinked in surprise. "It's moving."  
  
"He's moving," Luna corrected absently.  
  
Ron looked at them skeptically. "Right. Forgot. Muggles have those boring non-moving pictures."  
  
Reyes handed the wallet back to him. "I never really thought they were boring until now..."  
  
"What's next?" Doggett quipped. "Portraits that can talk?"  
  
Hermione exchanged a glance with Harry and Ron. "Well, actually--"  
  
She was saved the trouble of explaining that little piece of information when there came a knock at the door. Glancing around, Harry moved to the door and pulled it open.  
  
Dumbledore.  
  
"Hello, Harry." he said kindly. "Mind if I come in?"  
  
Wordlessly, Harry let him into the house, and suddenly there was no further contest for attention in the room. It was obvious that Dumbledore was more of what the Muggles had expected when they thought of wizards; with his flowing robes, long white beard, and pointed hat, it wasn't difficult to see why.  
  
"Greetings everyone." Dumbledore said, bowing ever so slightly. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and it is a pleasure to meet you. I've heard many great things about you."  
  
Scully looked taken aback. "About us?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled at her. "Oh, yes. I've had an interest in the X-Files from the very beginning. I tried my best to keep up with your adventures, but I usually only checked in on you every Sunday or so."  
  
"How very flattering," Mulder spoke up, "and also kind of stalkerish..."  
  
Dumbledore ignored the last statement. "Now, I suppose you're all wondering if I have any insight into the matter of these dreams." He looked at Harry and Scully pointedly. "I'm afraid that I know very little, and that what I do know is not at my liberty to discuss."  
  
Doggett folded his arms. "That's helpful."  
  
"I am sorry," Dumbledore said, his eyes kind, "but this is the way it must be. However, I can assure you that Mr. Potter and Ms. Scully do share a very special connection, and that it is best to investigate these dreams."  
  
Hermione looked relieved. "So you aren't upset that we told them about the wizarding world?"  
  
"Of course not," Dumbledore assured her. "Besides, we could always displace their memories if the need arose."  
  
Scully exchanged a glance with Mulder. "How very comforting..."  
  
Dumbledore folded his hands together. "I'm afraid I must be off. Hogwarts business to attend to, and all. Good luck with your journey, and remember--" He looked at Scully pointedly, "—trust your intuition."  
  
With that, he was gone. There was silence in the room as everyone pondered this, and then Harry met Scully's gaze. "Well," he said determinedly, "I suppose we should begin then..."  
  
***  
  
I thrive on reviews! Don't make me starve. 


	4. Connections

The Point of No Return  
  
author: Elizabeth  
  
summary: Cross-over between the X-Files and Harry Potter. When the X-Files are called upon to investigate strange activity in London, they get more than they bargained for when they run into the world's most famous wizard.  
  
ships: H/Hr, M/S, D/S  
  
rating: PG  
  
disclaimer: I don't own HP and I don't own the X-Files. Sadly.  
  
a/n: Just a brief reminder, in this fic the X-Files crew and Harry and Hermione are all about the same age. I know that isn't really plausible, but...that's what fanfics are for!!! *evil laughter*  
  
chapter four: Connections  
  
Harry was angry, Hermione could tell, though he was trying desperately to remain calm. As Ron, Luna, and the Muggles cleared a space on the living room floor, Hermione reached out and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Harry, are you all right?"  
  
"He didn't tell us anything," Harry said, turning to face her. "Dumbledore. He didn't give us any information. I feel like I'm back in fifth year again, being purposefully kept in the dark. Why did he even bother coming?"  
  
Hermione frowned. "Harry, you heard what Dumbledore said. For whatever reason, he wasn't allowed to tell us. We have to trust his judgment. And as for why he came, well...he probably wanted to let you know that he wasn't ignoring you. He wants to help, but he has to do it his own way."  
  
Ron approached, smiling tentatively as he glanced back and forth between them. "Everything all right over here?"  
  
"Fine." Harry said shortly.  
  
Ron clapped his hands together. "Well, if the two of you can spare me, I need to get back to work. The Ministry waits for no man, and all."  
  
Hermione embraced him quickly. "Sorry about last night, Ron. We'll make sure to owl you the next time we don't show up for dinner."  
  
"You better." Ron gave them one last parting grin, then turned to Luna. "Come on, sweetheart." He glanced quickly at Reyes, blushing, then wrapped an arm around his wife. "Nice to meet everyone."  
  
When they were gone, Doggett stepped toward Harry and Hermione, his face openly wary. "Well, we've made a big enough space for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Now can you explain this whole Pensieve thing to us?"  
  
"A Pensieve is a wizard tool used to store memories," Hermione informed them, "sort of to help clear the mind. It can also be used to examine someone's memory because it gives an unbiased view of what happened."  
  
Understanding dawned in Scully's eyes. "So you're going to create a Pensieve out of my memories so we can examine the dream."  
  
Hermione nodded. "Exactly. The only problem is that making a Pensieve for a Muggle is a little more complicated than creating one for a wizard. It requires the combined efforts of at least two wizards, and any extra strength we can use is helpful. That's why we need everyone's participation."  
  
On the opposite side of the room, Mulder folded his arms. "I don't know if I like this. It sounds kind of dangerous."  
  
Scully met his gaze. "It's all right, Mulder. I can handle this."  
  
They stared at one another, neither backing down. Harry intervened, stepping forward. "Don't worry—Hermione's running the show on this, and she was the top witch in her class. She won't let anything happen."  
  
There was another tense pause, and then Mulder nodded. "All right."  
  
A short while later, they were sitting on the ground in a circle, holding hands. Doggett glanced around uncomfortably. "I feel kind of ridiculous," he admitted.  
  
Reyes smiled. "I feel like I'm thirteen again."  
  
Hermione busied herself passing around a potion that she had spent the last half hour or so brewing. "Everyone take a drink—just a sip will do." When the cup came back to her, she took her own sip and grimaced. "Ooh, that's horrid, isn't it? Tastes kind of like sunflower seeds..."  
  
Mulder merely grinned.  
  
Hermione cleared her throat, all business once more. "All right, in a few minutes the potion should begin to take effect. There may be some strange side effects at first—we'll all probably be forced to recount a memory, and it will most likely be a painful one. But we're going to have to focus on Agent Scully--"  
  
  
  
And suddenly, the room was spinning and a thousand muffled voices were screaming at once. An image projected in the center of the circle. It was a young Fox Mulder, watching as his sister was abducted by aliens. "Samantha...Samantha!!!"  
  
Next there was a sobbing Scully, handing her baby over to the worker at the adoption agency. "William..."  
  
A slightly younger Doggett, standing over the lifeless form of his son. "Luke..."  
  
A five year old Reyes watching her grandmother draw in her last breath. "Nana..."  
  
A fifteen year old Harry watching as Sirius toppled backward through the veil. "Sirius!"  
  
A seventeen year old Hermione, realizing that Harry had gone to face Voldemort on his own. "Harry..."  
  
At the head of the circle, Hermione pressed her eyes shut. *Focus* she thought wildly, forcing other painful memories from her mind. *We need to focus...*  
  
And then the voices and images were dimming, and suddenly there was only one source drawing their energy. Lily Evans was in the midst of the circle, her green eyes wide with fright as Voldemort entered the room. She raced toward the stairs, her face frantic. A moment later, she was in the bedroom of a young baby boy who was sleeping in a crib. She gathered him in her arms, backing away as Voldemort entered the room. "No, please! Not Harry!" There was a flash of green light and then a scream.  
  
As the green light began to fade, there was a flash of a face. Piercing blue eyes. Aristocratic features. Long shimmering blonde hair.  
  
With a gasp, everyone returned to their normal state. Scully was trembling visibly, obviously shaken. Mulder took her hands. "Dana, are you all right?"  
  
"I'm all right." Scully said, even managing a weak smile. She glanced at Mulder, sensing he needed something to do. "I'd, um, like to take a bath."  
  
"I'm on it." he said quickly, rushing to the bathroom.  
  
On Scully's other side, Reyes looked equally worried. "Can I get you anything, Dana? Maybe I should make you some tea..." Before Scully could even reply, Reyes was out of the room.   
  
Seeing the stricken look on Hermione's face, Scully smiled again. "I'm all right—really. It's just...seeing that man's face sort of gave me a shock."  
  
Harry frowned at this. "You haven't seen him before?"  
  
Scully shook her head. "No, this is the first time."  
  
Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. "Can you excuse us?" Harry inquired. "We'll only be a moment..."  
  
They disappeared from the room, leaving Scully and Doggett alone together. She glanced over at him, seeing the open worry on his face. "Are you sure you're all right?" he inquired.  
  
"Fine." Feeling a surge of bravery, she added, "And you?"  
  
Doggett furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"  
  
Scully shrugged. "Well, it's just that since we started working on this case, you've scarcely spoken three words to me."  
  
Doggett stared at her for a moment, then glanced away. "You're being ridiculous."  
  
"Am I?" Scully countered. "We used to be partners, John. I know when you're avoiding something, and for some reason that something is me right now. What's going on?"  
  
"You didn't say goodbye." Doggett blurted abruptly.  
  
Scully blinked at him in surprise. "What?"  
  
Doggett looked thoroughly embarrassed now. "You didn't say goodbye. We worked together for two years, Agent Scully, and then you just took off with Mulder without so much as a word of goodbye. Working with you meant a lot to me. I considered you a friend, but apparently you didn't feel the same way."  
  
She was silent, stunned. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Agent Doggett. That was certainly never my intention. Everything just happened so fast..."  
  
He shrugged. "It's fine. Just forget it."  
  
Scully frowned at him. "Agent Doggett--"  
  
Mulder reentered the room. "Bath's almost..." He stopped seeing the expressions on their faces. "What is it? Is everything all right?"  
  
"Fine." Doggett said briskly, rising to his feet. "I think I'll go see if Monica needs help with the tea."  
  
***  
  
As soon as they were in the dining room, Harry whirled to face Hermione. "Did you just see what I saw?"  
  
"Lucius Malfoy." Hermione confirmed grimly. "There was no mistaking him."  
  
Harry let out a confused sigh, running a hand through his already messy hair. "I don't understand. Why of all people was Lucius Malfoy in the dream?"  
  
"It is rather strange," Hermione confirmed. "I didn't know he and your mother were connected."  
  
"They weren't." Harry returned. "At least, not so far as I know. They weren't in the same year at Hogwarts or anything. They must have known each other through the wizarding world, but other than that..."  
  
Hermione was silent for a moment, pondering this. "Well, I suppose there's only one way to find some answers."  
  
"Draco." Harry confirmed grimly.   
  
They started toward the door. Harry stopped abruptly and frowned at her. "Um...Hermione?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
He looked down at his hands. "When we were in the circle, your painful memory...it was when I left to fight Voldemort, wasn't it?"  
  
It was her turn to feel uncomfortable. "Yes, it was." she replied honestly.  
  
Harry sighed. "I didn't realize that you were still upset about that. You know I only left you behind because I didn't want you to get hurt."  
  
Hermione looked away. " I know, Harry. And logically, I can understand that. But I won't lie—at the time, I was really hurt that you left me behind. I felt like you didn't think I was strong enough."  
  
He shook his head. "That isn't it, Hermione. It's because I knew that if something happened to you, I could never be strong enough to fight him. I couldn't just--"  
  
She placed a finger over his lips, silencing him. " I know, Harry." Her face grew suddenly intense. "But promise me that you'll never leave me behind like that again, Harry. Promise me."  
  
Harry hesitated, but only for a moment. "I promise."  
  
***  
  
I thrive on reviews! Don't make me starve. 


	5. Malfoy Manor

chapter five: Malfoy Manor  
  
Scully blinked in surprise at the rather large mansion looming before her eyes. It belonged to an old acquaintance of Harry and Hermione's by the name of Draco Malfoy, who apparently had some sort of tie to the blonde man in her vision. Harry and Hermione had spent the last half-hour arguing over whether they should use something called 'floo powder'; they had finally opted to drive out to the Malfoy manor in the government-owned suburban that had been loaned out to the X-Files for their trip.  
  
Beside her, Reyes let out a low whistle. "Not too shabby," she commented, looking visibly impressed.  
  
"Sure," Mulder quipped, "if you like that whole wealth, glamour, and luxury thing."  
  
Scully smiled at this and shook her head, meeting Mulder's gaze briefly. After the scare during her vision, they'd made up, and she was glad for it. She hated to be angry with Mulder, even for a short while. They had been through so much together, after all; it seemed trivial to bicker over things of little consequence.  
  
Mulder moved past her up the elaborate steps leading up to the mansion, and Scully's gaze fell upon Doggett, who had been standing just behind him. Doggett held her gaze momentarily then ducked his head, moving up the steps. Scully felt a brief surge of guilt but pushed it aside; she didn't have time to worry about that now.  
  
Harry was frowning as he climbed the steps; it was evident that he didn't much care for this Draco fellow. "Just to warn you," he said as they neared the door, "Malfoy isn't the friendliest of people. He'll probably be rude and a bit crass, but don't take it personally. He's very nondiscriminate about hating people."  
  
Doggett made a face. "Sounds like a pleasant guy."  
  
Hermione exchanged a rueful smile with him. "You have no idea. And since we gave him warning that we were coming, he's probably spent the entire time thinking of horrible things to say to us. Just a head's up."  
  
With that delightful introduction, Harry stepped forward, raising his hand to knock on the elaborate, black-paneled door, featuring a gold-embossed knocker in the shape of a snake. There was a moment's pause, and then the door swung open to reveal a blonde, impeccably dressed man.  
  
Scully felt herself take in an involuntary breath. There was no denying that this man– presumably Draco Malfoy– was an incredibly handsome individual. Something about him was inexplicably graceful; there was an almost tangible sensuality that pulsed beneath his skin.   
  
He smiled at each of them in turn. "Hello, and welcome to Malfoy Manor. Harry, Hermione, it's so good to see you again. Everyone else, my name is Draco Malfoy and it's a pleasure to meet you."  
  
Mulder exchanged an amused glance with Scully. "Completely indiscriminate," he murmured.  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Nothing," Mulder said, feigning innocence. He extended his hand. "My name is Fox Mulder, and these are my associates– Dana Scully, Monica Reyes, and John Doggett."  
  
Smiling, Draco shook each of their hands in turn. "Good to meet you all," he repeated. He opened the door wider. "Please, come in. I'm anxious to help in any way that I can."  
  
Harry and Hermione exchanged a frown at this but obediently followed the others into the mansion. The interior was just as ornate and impressive as the exterior: marble floors, exquisite paintings, gold and chrystal chandeleirs. Draco led them into a sitting room and motioned toward the sofas.  
  
"I admit that I was a little confused when I received your message," Draco informed Hermione. "I understand that Agent– Scully, was it?– is having some sort of vision, but I don't know how I could be of any help."  
  
"For some reason, your father was in Agent Scully's vision," Harry explained. "We were wondering if you might know why."  
  
Draco's face darkened, but only for a moment. "Well, I don't know of any ties between my father and your mother, do you?" Abruptly, he rose to his feet. "Forgive me– I'm being a bad host. Let me go into the kitchen and have the cook prepare something to snack on."  
  
As soon as he was gone, Hermione turned to Harry. "Okay...what on Earth was that?"  
  
Harry looked similarly baffled. "Did we enter the bizarro world, or something?"  
  
Scully leaned back, trying not to let her amusement show. "He seems perfectly well-behaved to me. Are you sure you aren't misjudging him? People change from adolescence to adulthood. I myself used to be what some people would call reckless."  
  
Mulder blinked at her, looking visibly disturbed. "You mean, you didn't come out of the womb wearing pantsuits and sensible shoes? My world is shattered."  
  
"I know that people can change," Harry interrupted, still looking confused, "but not Malfoy. I mean, this kid used to make fun of me for being an orphan...He told Hermione she deserved to die because her parents were Muggles. Things like that don't just go away."  
  
Hermione frowned. "Harry's right. Draco's problems were more than that of an annoying teenager. There was real cruelty in him."  
  
Doggett shrugged, spreading out his hands. "Listen, I get what you're saying, but we can't rule out the possibility that he just matured over the years. That sort of thing can happen."  
  
Reyes cleared her throat. "Actually..." Suddenly all eyes were swiveled toward her. She shifted uncomfortably. "I'm getting a weird vibe from him. There's something strange about this place...dark. Secretive. He's hiding something."  
  
Scarcely had the words come out of her mouth when Draco re-entered the room, bearing a tray full of food. "Hope this'll tide you over until dinner." he said.  
  
Scully raised an eyebrow. "Dinner?"  
  
Draco blinked at them. "You'll all be staying here while you investigate, won't you?"  
  
Harry looked visibly uncomfortable. "Well, we wouldn't want to impose..."  
  
"It wouldn't be an imposition." Draco said. "I mean, we do have all of my father's files in the library, and those could prove to be infinitely helpful. And it would be ridiculous for you to have to drive back and forth every day. Besides, Harry's house is fine but it's not nearly big enough to house six people for an extended time. There's more than enough room here at the Manor."  
  
Harry glanced over at Hermione. She gave a half-hearted shrug. "It would be nice to have access to the Malfoy's library."  
  
Draco smiled. "Then it's settled. I'll send some people for your things. Until then," he rose to his feet, "let me show you to your rooms."  
  
Too dumbfounded to do much else, the others followed behind them as he led them toward a twisting staircase, passing by a human-sized fireplace as he went. "You'll be staying upstairs, unless there are any objections..."  
  
He stopped, his gaze resting upon Reyes. She was standing in front of the fireplace, a troubled expression on her face. "Something's wrong with this place," she said, motioning to the hearth. "Something happened here. I hear screaming."  
  
In an instant, Draco was at her side, his face pallid. "Come away from there," he commanded. Remembering himself, he glanced around at the others and forced a smile. "This house has been in the family for generations. It's possible that something happened there a long time ago, but there's no point in worrying about it...And I wouldn't want Agent Reyes to catch a cold from the draft."  
  
But as they headed toward the stairs again, Reyes continued to look troubled, and Draco's darted glances toward her seemed less than benevolent in nature.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"I should have known Draco would demand a dress-code at his dinners," Hermione grumbled as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror beside Reyes and Scully. She leaned forward, fidgeting with her strap. "Honestly, I can't remember the last time I dressed up. No, scratch that. It was Ron and Luna's wedding, three years ago."  
  
Scully smiled sympathetically. "I'm not one for dressing up, either. Of course, you don't get too much call for it living in a Motel 6."  
  
Reyes, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying herself quite thoroughly. "But it is fun to dress up every now and then, don't you think? I'll take any excuse I can get to wear a little lipstick."  
  
Scully glanced over at her sideways. "How are you feeling? Have you had any other strange feelings about this place?"  
  
"Not really," Reyes said with a shrug. "I'm beginning to think that fireplace thing was a fluke."  
  
Hermione took a step back, analyzing their reflections. "Well, for three people who are so out of practice in getting 'dolled up', we're definitely doing pretty well, don't you think?"  
  
Reyes smiled, running one last brush through her hair. "Definitely. And now we better head downstairs so we get to the dining hall on time. Otherwise, that Draco fellow might paddle us."  
  
"Paddle?" Hermione repeated, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Reyes merely grinned. "Sure– isn't that what you do here in Britain for punishment? Paddle people and throw scones at them?"   
  
Hermione frowned. "Americans really have no clue what other cultures are like, do they?"  
  
They headed toward the door, pausing as they realized Scully wasn't behind them. Reyes turned back questioningly. "Coming?"  
  
"Give me another minute," Scully returned. "I just realized there's a run in my pantyhose."  
  
Hermione and Reyes obediently exited, and Scully frowned as she removed the offending pantyhose. "Who needs 'em anyway," she muttered, tossing them into the little garbage tin next to the toilet.   
  
There was a brief knock at the door, and then Doggett entered the room. "Monica?" He stopped at the sight of Scully, looking vaguely embarrassed. "Agent Scully. Sorry. Is, um, is Reyes around?"  
  
Feeling suddenly nervous herself, Scully folded her arms. "She already headed down to dinner. Is there something I can help you with?"  
  
Flushing slightly, Doggett motioned to his tie. "I'm not good with bowties. I haven't had to wear one since before the divorce, and...well, my wife used to always do it for me."  
  
Wordlessly, Scully stepped forward and adjusted his tie for him. When she was done, he stepped away quickly. "Thanks."  
  
Scully sighed and watched him leave, silently berating herself. If she had only told him goodbye when she and Mulder left the X-Files, then things could have been the way they used to be. But maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe she could still set things right.  
  
_No_, a voice countered in her head, _things can't ever go back.  
_  
_Not when he looks at you like that_.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Harry waited impatiently for the others at the bottom of the staircase. Mulder was already there with him, but there was no sign of the women yet. Which meant no sign of Hermione. And as she was the only one who understood Malfoy's true nature, he was none too keen on heading into the dining room without her. Besides, he wasn't entirely convinced that Malfoy didn't have some ulterior motive, and Harry would much rather have Hermione by his side so that he could be certain she was safe.  
  
Beside him, Mulder let out a low whistle as he looked up at the stairs. "Well, aren't you ladies looking lovely?" he teased.  
  
Harry turned to see Reyes first, and then Hermione. She was wearing a simple but elegant black dress, and her thick, curly hair was twisted attractively at the back of her head. His mind wandered back to the Yule Ball when she'd shown up with Viktor Krum and been the talk of the school. He had forgotten how very stunning she could be.   
  
"Where's Dana?" Mulder inquired, looking past them.  
  
"She'll be down in a minute." Hermione returned. She glanced over at Harry and met his gaze, flushing slightly. "Harry?"  
  
"What?" Harry returned, still slightly dazed.  
  
"You're staring."  
  
It was Harry's turn to blush. "Am I?"  
  
Reyes and Mulder exchanged an amused smile but wisely refrained from commenting. Doggett came down the stairs a moment later, followed shortly by Scully.  
  
Scarcely had Scully stepped into the foyer than Draco appeared, looking predictably dashing in his suit. He smiled approvingly at everyone. "Nice to see everyone looking so dapper. Especially you, Potter. Didn't know you had it in you."  
  
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione placed a restraining hand on his arm. He reluctantly clamped his mouth shut and forced a smile.  
  
"The food is waiting for us in the dining room," Draco informed them, motioning to a nearby maid. "If you'll just follow Christine..."  
  
Everyone obediently trailed after the maid. Draco lingered behind, tapping Reyes on the shoulder. "Can I have a word, Agent Reyes?"  
  
Reyes glanced at the others but obligingly remained behind with Draco. When they were out of earshot, he whirled on her, his eyes blazing. "What kind of a game are you trying to play, anyway? What do you know about my family?"  
  
She blinked at him in surprise. "I don't know anything about you. I just have feelings sometimes, intuitions– "  
  
Draco ignored her. "How much will it cost to keep you quiet? A hundred? A thousand?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Reyes insisted. "I just had a bad feeling when I walked past your fireplace. I sensed pain there, and fear..." She trailed off, her eyes widening. "It has something to do with your father, doesn't it? Your father and...your mother."  
  
Draco was positively livid now. "I don't know who you are or what you're hoping to accomplish, but if you tell a living soul, I will destroy you. No matter where you run, I will hunt you down and crush your very soul. Understood?"  
  
He turned and stormed down the hallway. Reyes watched after him in shock, shaking her head. "Wow," she said finally, "teenage Draco makes a sudden and stunning comeback..."


	6. A Little Thing Called Romance

a/n: Just pretend there's the usual disclaimer stuff here. I'm gettin' lazy. Anyway, I used to post on Portkey but switched computers and now I don't have my password anymore. I tried getting a new password but it only gets me onto the forums, not able to upload new chapters or anything. Any help on this would be appreciated! Oh, and thanks for reading. :)

chapter six: a little thing called romance  
  
The group entered the dining room and settled at the table, leaving the chair at the head open for Draco. Scully seated herself next to Mulder and glanced up to see that he was watching her with a goofy sort of smile on his face. "What?" she inquired, raising a self-conscious hand to her hair.  
  
"You're beautiful," Mulder said simply.  
  
Embarrassed but pleased at the compliment, Scully cocked her head to the side. "You're just now noticing?"  
  
"I notice every day," Mulder returned easily, "but I'm afraid if I tell you too often, you'll think I'm a supersoldier and try to break my neck or something."  
  
Scully smiled at this, shaking her head and reflecting that only Mulder would bring up a half-human hybrid during a romantic moment. "I would never break your neck for complimenting me," she informed him.  
  
Mulder raised his eyebrows. "You would break my neck otherwise?"  
  
She shrugged. "Depends on what mood I'm in..."  
  
The door to the dining room opened and Draco entered, wearing his usual charming smile. He seated himself at the head of the table and immediately engaged Hermione in a discussion about the Malfoy libraries. A moment later, Reyes slipped into the room, looking decidedly uncomfortable.  
  
Scully looked up and met Doggett's gaze, seeing her worry mirrored in his eyes. Frowning, he turned to Reyes. "Everything all right, Monica?"   
  
"I'm not sure," Reyes admitted. "Ask me again after dinner."  
  
A moment later, Draco called in his servants, and in a matter of seconds there was a delicious feast spread out on the table. Scully groaned inwardly; so much for the diet she had planned to start.   
  
Some time passed as everyone ate to their heart's content. After her third helping of roasted duck, Reyes leaned back in her chair, clutching at her stomach. "Please tell me this food is enchanted so that the calories just magically disappear."  
  
"No such luck, I'm afraid," Harry returned, smiling sympathetically. "Even wizards have to count calories."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, I personally think that someone should get on that right away." She looked at Harry in mock seriousness. "Do you think Ron could put off whatever he's doing at the Ministry and start working on that disappearing calories thing?"  
  
Harry rubbed his chin. "Well, I think he was saying that his team just started searching for a cure to cancer...but calorie expenditure is far more important."  
  
"Far more," Hermione agreed, smiling.  
  
The dining room door opened and a servant entered the room. He moved directly to Draco, whispering something in his ear. When he was finished, Draco turned to Hermione. "Hermione, a telegram for you, from someone named Alex."  
  
"Who's Alex?" Mulder teased.  
  
Hermione had suddenly grown quite pink. "My, ur...boyfriend. He must be on his way back from the states..."  
  
Taking the letter, she excused herself from the room. "Her boyfriend?" Reyes repeated aloud. "But I thought..." She glanced over at Harry and immediately clamped her mouth shut.  
  
Harry, in the meantime, had suddenly taken a great interest in his food. He heartily ate three more forkfulls of mashed potatoes and then turned to Draco with a thoughtful expression on his face. "You are planning on serving dessert, aren't you Malfoy?"  
  
Draco had just opened his mouth to reply when an owl swooped into the dining room, dropping off a small, red envelope into Harry's lap. The owl immediately circled about and exited the room.  
  
Scully blinked in surprise at this. "I'm guessing this is one of those magic things...unless it's one of those charming but quirky British things."  
  
"It's a magic thing," Draco assured her, looking rather amused.  
  
Mulder studied the envelope in Harry's hands with some curiosity. "What is that thing?"  
  
"A howler," Harry returned grimly.  
  
Reyes frowned. "What's a– "  
  
She was answered as Harry opened the envelope and it levitated up to his head level, suddenly appearing as a large mouth rather than a card. "HARRY POTTER," it boomed in a male voice with a Scottish accent, "HAVE YOU COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN THAT YOU HAVE A TOURNAMENT GAME TO PLAY TOMORROW? PRACTICE IS NOT MANDATORY, YOU PRAT! BE AT THE STADIUM TOMORROW MORNING AT SEVEN SHARP OR YOU'LL BECOME THE BOY WHO WAS MASSACRED BY HIS TEAM!!!"  
  
At this, the envelope tore itself into little pieces and fell down to the table. Watching this with open amusement, Draco glanced over at Harry. "So, how is Oliver doing?"  
  
Slightly pallid now, Harry forced a smile in return. "Just fine. A little peeved, though."  
  
"Sounds like it."  
  
The Muggles at the table looked clearly stunned by what they had witnessed. After a moment, Doggett cleared his throat. "So," he said, "that was...interesting."  
  
Scully forced a smile, attempting rather vainly not to be completely shocked by everything she saw in the wizarding world. She turned to Harry. "You're on a team? What sport do you play?"  
  
Harry ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "It's called Quidditch...it's actually a wizard's sport."  
  
Mulder smirked at this. "A wizard's sport? What, do you fly on brooms or something?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Well, actually...yes."  
  
This was followed by a defeaning silence, and then Mulder grinned. "Can we come?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Later that night, Harry made his way out to the Malfoy pool. He knew he should be resting tonight for the big tournament tomorrow– he couldn't believe that he'd forgotten about it during the excitement of everything that was happening– but he felt restless, anxious. He was desperate to learn the meaning behind Scully's visions, but the Quidditch game tomorrow would be just one more delay to finding answers.  
  
Determined to rid himself of some stress, he dove into the darkened pool, pushing through the cool water until he broke to the surface again. There was something about swimming that was just so therapeutic.   
  
He dove back underwater and swam around a bit. When he broke to the surface again, he heard a pair of feet shuffling on the deck. Cautiously, he remained mostly hidden in the darkened water, straining his eyes to see who was approaching.   
  
Upon seeing the flash of wavy hair, he grinned and sunk a bit lower into the water. Hermione. She seemed completely oblivious to his presence and was moving toward the edge of the pool, tentatively dipping one foot into the water. Unable to resist himself, he swam stealthily over to her, careful to remain hidden, and then abruptly lunged out of the water, pulling her in.  
  
Hermione shrieked as she was submerged into the water. When they broke the surface again, she gasped and pushed against him frantically, struggling to get away. Harry laughed at this and held onto her. "Hermione, it's me. Harry."  
  
"Harry?" she echoed, and then let out a different sort of shriek, punching him on the shoulder. "You scared me to death! I thought you were one of those horrible monsters Reyes and Scully have been telling me about. Did they tell you about that thing in the sewers...?"  
  
Harry could barely conceal his grin. "Sorry."  
  
She scowled at him. "You don't sound very sorry..."   
  
It was then that Harry noticed he was still holding on to Hermione and that they were still in rather close proximity. Wearing only their bathing suits. Suddenly glad for the cover of darkness, Harry released her and swam back a bit, letting his head remain above water. "How's Alex doing?"  
  
Hermione shrugged and turned a bit so he could only see her profile. "Oh, he's fine. He just got back in from visiting his mum in America."  
  
Harry frowned at this. "He does that a lot, doesn't he?" At her silence, he added, "Visit his mother, I mean."  
  
"She's sick, I think," Hermione returned quietly. "Anyway, he's a very loyal person. That's what I like about him."  
  
They were silent for a moment. Harry cleared his throat. "Wood sent me a howler for forgetting to go to practice."  
  
Hermione looked at him worriedly. "You aren't going to lose your job or anything, are you Harry?"  
  
He shrugged. "I doubt it. But Wood'll be mad for a while, no doubt about that." He gave a short laugh. "I could try to explain to him that something more important came up, but I doubt he'd listen. After all– "  
  
"–nothing's more important than Quidditch to Wood," Hermione finished for him. "I remember how you used to go on about that."  
  
Harry smiled, reflecting back on those days at Hogwarts. He'd been fighting against Voldemort from the start, but somehow Quidditch had still managed to seem so important. It kind of made him feel a bit more like Wood than he cared to.  
  
"The Muggles are tagging along," Harry informed her. "They're excited about seeing their first genuine Quidditch game."  
  
"I'm sure they'll love it." Hermione returned, sounding amused. "Much more than I do, on any account."  
  
Harry gawked at her with mock horror. "Are you saying you don't like Quidditch?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "The game itself is fine, Harry, but the way you play it...I'm afraid that every game is going to be your last."  
  
He advanced on her. "So now you're insulting the way I play Quidditch, eh?"  
  
She giggled, retreating away from him. "Well, Harry, it is rather embarrassing how you always manage to get bumped or bruised in some way."  
  
"I may get beat up a lot on the Quidditch pitch," Harry admitted, closing in on her now, "but at least I'm not...ticklish!"  
  
He swooped in on her, going for the spot just below her ribs where he knew she was most sensitive. She squealed and attempted to jerk away from him, but he was the stronger and quicker of the two. Laughing, she clutched at him to keep from going under water. "Harry...stop...I can't breathe!"  
  
Harry only intensified his efforts. "Not until you admit that I'm a good Quidditch player."  
  
Gasping for air, she let out a few more giggles before complying. "You're a _wonderful_ Quidditch player, Harry."  
  
"And you find me irresistably handsome."  
  
"Harry!"  
  
She attempted to pull away from him once more, but Harry caught her arm and used her momentum to pull her back. The pull was a little stronger than he had intended, however; she collided against him, and there was suddenly very little distance between them at all.  
  
They regarded each other for a moment, both too surprised to really react. Hermione was breathing in quickly, trying to make up for her lost breath, and Harry knew that he should let go of her but couldn't seem to make his arm comply.   
  
Hermione looked up at him, searching his eyes. And then she forced a wistful sort of smile. "You're...irresistable, Harry."  
  
Taken aback, he released her. She turned and exited the pool, not looking back until she had reached the house.   
  
And then she was gone.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
_ A white wedding dress. Long sleeves, laced with gold. A boquet of roses, blood red. A veil covering a pretty face, framed by red hair. Brilliant green eyes. Tears._  
  
Scully sat up with a gasp, trembling violently. She had never felt so terrified before in her life, not through all the years on the X-Files. There was a scream welling inside of her throat, but she forced it back, letting out a small sob instead.   
  
It took her a moment to realize that Mulder was beside her, holding her tightly, the concern evident in his eyes. "Dana, what is it? You were screaming."  
  
Fighting back her tears, Scully took in a long, deliberate breath. "I think I just had another vision..."  
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	7. Head to Head

Chapter Seven: Head to Head 

The next morning breakfast was silent, tense. Reyes looked around the room, wondering what it was that had everyone so wound up. Doggett was being typically stoic, Draco was watching her whenever he thought she wouldn't notice, Scully seemed lost in her own world, and Harry and Hermione had scarcely looked at each other since coming into the dining room.

It seemed Reyes wasn't the only one bothered by the silence. Mulder fidgeted in his chair for a moment before turning to Scully. "Aren't you going to tell them about the dreams?" he asked.

Harry was suddenly all attention. "What dream?"

"Did you have another vision?" Hermione pressed.

Scully pressed her lips together, tightening her hold on her mug of coffee. "Yes, I think so. It was of your mother, Lily. She was getting married."

Harry leaned back in his chair, looking confused. "Well then you probably saw her on the day she married my father."

Scully hesitated, shaking her head. "I don't think so. She seemed upset in the dream, almost terrified. It didn't seem like a very happy occasion to me."

There was a moment of silence around the breakfast table. Harry shook his head. "There must be some kind of mistake. She and my father were very much in love– she wouldn't have been terrified to marry him."

"I'm sure you're right," Reyes spoke up gently, "there has to be another explanation."

Doggett cleared his throat. "Is it possible your mother was married once before she married your father?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. She and my father married right out of school. She couldn't have been more than seventeen or eighteen at the time."

There was another moment as Scully processed this information. "Maybe it wasn't anything," she said with a half shrug, "I've been feeling a little stressed lately. It's probably just my sub-conscious manifesting itself in dream form. Not even a vision at all."

Mulder reached out, putting an arm around her. "Well, I for one know I'm up for a day of fun and frolick." With his free hand, he pointed playfully at Harry. "And you, my friend, promised us a game of Gibberish."

"Quidditch," Draco corrected, looking as though he was barely containing an eye-roll.

Harry let out a breath. "That's right. I need to get running so I'm not late– but I've arranged with the stadium to give you all box-office seating. Everyone's coming, right?"

Hermione finally met his gaze for the first time that morning. "I'm not."

Harry's face fell visibly. "You're not? But..."

Hermione's cheeks were now a bright pink. "I know I'm always at every game, Harry, but I just can't make it today. Alex is flying in from New York and...well, you understand, don't you?" She rose to her feet. "I'll come to the next one, I promise."

She was out of the room before Harry could respond. Doggett cleared his throat, clearly attempting to remove the awkwardness that threatened to overshadow the room once more. "What should we wear to this sort of thing? I'm guessing we'll stick out like sore thumbs if we're in baseball caps and jerseys."

But Harry's mind was preoccupied elsewhere. Draco forced a smile. "Yes, actually, but just tell everyone you're from America. You can get away with all kinds of dumb things if you say that."

Everyone rose to their feet, moving to prepare for the day. Seeing that Harry was still in a daze, Scully reached out and touched his shoulder. "We'll see you there, all right?"

Harry blinked at her in surprise then smiled. "Yeah, see you there."

Reyes had almost made it out of the room when she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Draco. "May I have a moment,Agent Reyes?"

She followed him out into the hallway. Draco turned to her, smiling that polite, charming smile, and it was hard to remember he was the same man who had accosted her the night before.

"I'd like to apologize for my behavior last night," he said, "I wasn't thinking clearly and I certainly didn't mean any offense."

Reyes hesitated, not certain of how to respond. On the one hand, he had been so very frightening...but then, everyone was entitled to a bad day or two. She knew she probably came off just as intimidating when it was that time of the month.

"Of course," she said finally, "don't worry about it."

Still, Reyes mused as he walked away, she wouldn't be able to look at him the same way, not completely. And perhaps that was for the best.

Up in her room, Scully tried on various outfits but nothing seemed right. Her wardrobe consisted mainly of pantsuits and sleepwear, nothing that was really suitable to be worn to a sporting event.

The door opened and Reyes entered the room. "You almost ready?"

"I can't find anything to wear," Scully admitted. "How embarrassing is it that I've turned into one of those women who obsesses about clothing?"

"Not too embarrassing," Reyes returned, smiling, "if I had your clothes, I'd have a hard time getting dressed in the morning, too."

Scully glared at her, though she couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips. "Forgive me if I'm not prepared for magical sporting events."

Reyes moved to the mirror, checking her makeup. "Just borrow something from Hermione. You two are about the same size."

"Do you think she'd mind?"

"Nah." Reyes rubbed at a little smudge of mascara underneath her eye. "Besides, I doubt she'd even notice, what with the drama between her and Harry this morning. Do you know what happened with them?"

Scully didn't know, not for certain, but she could very well imagine. It was difficult being that near to someone you loved and unable to express your feelings. She knew from experience with Mulder. It had driven her crazy for years, not being able to tell him how she felt. She imagined that Harry and Hermione were probably going through that same thing.

But instead of saying this, she smiled at Reyes. "I was actually wondering what was going on with you and Draco. This is the second time he's wanted to speak with you alone."

Reyes laughed. "Yeah, well, don't get your hopes up. I think it's very possible that he's a derranged lunatic."

"At least he's a derranged lunatic with money."

Reyes tossed a pillow at her. "Go get something to wear. We'll meet you downstairs."

It took Scully a good long while, but she finally decided on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. It was not something she'd usually wear, but she assumed she'd fit right in with the American sports stereotype.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Doggett, Reyes, and Mulder all stared at her in shock. "You're in a sweatshirt," Doggett said, his voice clearly stunned.

"And jeans," added Reyes.

Mulder looked just like he had when he'd seen his first alien. "And your hair is in a ponytail...I think I'm in love."

Reyes smiled at this, and Doggett tentatively added, "You look nice, Agent Scully."

Scully took in a deep breath, taken aback by the compliment. "Thanks." Who knew that all a girl had to do for some attention was dress down?

Harry had already gone to the stadium in order to get ready for the game, and so Draco was the one to escort the Muggles to the Quidditch pitch. Scully had been bracing herself for something out of the ordinary, but her imagination was nothing compared to the sight before her eyes. There were dozens of wizards jetting through the air on broomsticks, batting around large brown balls that seemed to want to purposefully attack the players. She even thought she caught a glimpse of something small and golden wizzing through the air.

"This is incredible," Reyes breathed, looking around in wonder.

Even Doggett looked visibly impressed. "How do they stay on their brooms when they're moving so fast?"

"Nothing magical about it," Draco returned, "they just hold on."

To Scully's surprise, Mulder was the only one who seemed less than thrilled. "They're not just gonna ride around on their broomsticks all day, are they? When do they start hitting each other?"

Draco merely laughed at this. "Don't worry. Quidditch is known for being an incredibly violent sport."

Mulder folded his arms. "Really violent or just British violent? I'm from America, you know. I'm used to hockey and football."

"Trust me," Draco insisted, "this'll give any American sport a run for its money."

And he was certainly right. Scully found herself cringing as one of the players slammed headfirst into one of the circular field goals. The doctor in her was itching to race after the man and see if he was all right, but Draco had assured her repeatedly that the mediwitches were perfectly capable of mending all kinds of injuries in a matter of minutes.

Instead, Scully leaned over to Mulder. "Violent enough for you?"

She had never seen Mulder's eyes so wide before. "Yeah," he murmured, "this is _awesome_."

Smiling, Scully had just turned her focus back to the game when she heard a beeping noise. It took her a moment to recognize it as Mulder's cell phone.

Sheepishly, he answered. "Hello?" He frowned, pressing the phone closer to his ear. "Hello–what? I can't hear you..."

Draco tapped him on the arm. "Magic and electronics don't really mix well. You'll have to go out of the stadium to get a clear signal."

Nodding his thanks, Mulder disappeared out of the booth. Scully watched after him, frowning. So preoccupied was she in this that it took her a moment to realize someone was saying her name.

"Agent Scully," Doggett said again, "is everything all right?"

"Fine." She rose to her feet, still frowning. "I'll be right back."

She found Mulder just outside the stadium, having just finished his call. He looked up at her in surprise. "Scully, good. I was just about to come see you. I have to go."

"What?" She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. "But we just got here. What could possibly have come up this time?"

Mulder gripped her shoulder in excitement. "I got a lead on the super-soldiers, Scully. Turns out they have a base here in London. If I can infiltrate the base, we might be able to find a way to destroy them, once and for all."

Scully merely stared at him. "So you're leaving. Again."

Mulder stepped back, surprised. "What do you mean? Scully, I have to do this. This is too big an opportunity to pass up."

She laughed, but there was little humor in the sound. "It always is, Mulder. Well, go on then. You know where to find me when you're done."

She turned to storm off, but Mulder caught her arm before she could get too far. "Scully, wait a minute. Where is this coming from?"

"Don't try to twist this around to make me look like the irrational one," Scully snapped, glaring at him, "you always do this. You stick around until you're too bored to handle it and then you just take off! Like after William was born."

Mulder stared at her incredulously. "I was being chased by assassins hellbent on killing me! You told me to go."

"Yeah," Scully agreed, "and you went. How long did it take me to convince you, Mulder? A grand total of what– two seconds? Did you ever stop to think that William and I could be in danger, too?"

His eyes narrowed. "Everything I do is for you, Scully. Everything! Do you think it was easy for me to give up the X-Files? If it'd just been me, I would've stayed, whatever the consequences might be. But I cared too much to let that happen to you." He blew out a frustrated air. "That's why I'm doing this now– to stop the supersoldiers so we don't have to live in hiding anymore. So we can be reunited with our son."

"You know what's funny about that, Mulder?" Scully gave a bitter laugh. "I really think you believe that– that you believe you're doing this for me. But take a moment and reexamine yourself, and I think you'll find that everything you do is for one person and one person only– Fox Mulder."

She turned and stormed off, hoping against hope that he'd come after her.

He didn't.

Harry was quite positive that this had been the absolute worst game of his entire life. He'd caught the Snitch in the end, true, but getting to that point had been horribly embarrassing. Three times he'd almost fallen off his broom, andoncewhen he hadn't been paying attention he'd literally run into one ofthe goal posts.He was suddenly glad that his guests were all Muggles who wouldn't know the difference– except, of course, for Draco, who would no doubt tease him about it every chance he got.

_This is all Hermione's fault_, Harry reasoned. _If she hadn't distracted me this morning_...

Harry hated it when he and Hermione weren't speaking.All he could think about was Hermione pulling away from him like she couldn't stand to be around him.The idea of Hermione finding him repulsive kept playing over and over again in his mind. Not that it should be all that surprising. She had that boyfriend, Alex, and she'd always made it very clear to anyone who asked that she and Harry were _just friends_. There was not a single phrase on earth that he hated worse– just friends. How utterly and completely repulsive.

Then again, that seemed to be what Hermione thought of him– utterly and completely repulsive.

After showering and changing, Harry met his friends at the entrance to the fields. Several fans walking by whistled and shouted his name; embarrassed at the attention, he pretended not to have heard them.

"Great game," Reyes complimented him, "I've never seen anything so exciting in my entire life."

Doggett seemed to be puzzling over something in his mind. "So let me get this straight– if you get the waffle into the hoop, you score ten points, but whoever catches the golden thing gets one hundred and fifty points automatically."

"It's actually a quaffle, not a waffle," Harry said, smiling, "and that golden thingy is called a snitch. But otherwise–yeah, you're right."

Doggett folded his arms. "So then what's the point of having the quaffles? Whoever catches the snitch wins the game automatically, right?"

"Not necessarily," said Harry, "if you get enough points with the quaffles, you can still beat the other team. But it's very difficult to do."

"I'd say."

Harry turned to Scully, surprised to see her in Hermione's clothes. He had just opened his mouth to comment on it when he noticed that Scully looked withdrawn. He touched her on the elbow. "Still thinking about that dream last night?"

Scully blinked at him in surprise, then smiled. "Something like that."

"Tell you what," said Harry, "we'll do some research on it when we get back, all right? Maybe someone could tell us why my mother would be feeling so depressed on her wedding day."

Scully raised an eyebrow. "I thought you thought it was just a dream?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe so, maybe not. But if it's my mother's way of trying to tell us something, we should look into it, don't you think?"

Smiling, Scully stuffed her hands into her pockets. "I suppose so."

They headed toward the exits. Scully stopped suddenly, frowning as she pulled something from the pocket. "What's this...?"

Harry leaned over her shoulder and felt his mood instantly darken. "Oh, that's a picture of Hermione's boyfriend, Alex." Seeing the look on Scully's face, he straightened. "Why? Have you met him before?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But he was going by a different name then." Scully turned the picture so the others could see, her face grim. "It's Krychek."

Be kind, rewind...ur, review.


	8. Lost and Found

**The Point of No Return**

Scully took in a deep breath, waiting for some sort of response from Harry. She'd just finished recounting to him the entire saga of Krychek– his betrayal, his chain of criminal activity, and ultimately his supposed death.

During the entire thing, Harry had remained silent, his face completely blank. Finally now, he blinked and raised a hand to his face, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "So you're saying this man–Alex, Krycheck, whatever his name is– is a liar and a murderer, that he'll use and manipulate people and ultimately discard them once they've fulfilled their purpose."

Scully cleared her throat. "Well, yes, that pretty much sums it up."

"And he's with Hermione now," Harry continued, his voice maddeningly calm, "For all we know he's been using her for months, and now he's planning a way to murder her."

"We don't know that," Reyes spoke up, exchanging a glance with Scully. "Krychek has no idea we're on to him. So we have to assume that he has no motive yet to hurt Hermione."

Harry nodded at this, though his mind seemed to be occupied somewhere else. "Yes, yes, of course. We'll have to contact Hermione, make sure she's all right."

"Does she have a cell phone?" Doggett inquired.

Draco, who had been lurking in the background, snorted at this. Seeing he had everyone's attention, he frowned. "Sorry, just...cellphones to wizards are kind of like telegrams to Muggles. Incredibly out-dated."

Harry rose to his feet. "Hermione and I can communicate through our minds if there's an emergency," he informed them.

Draco looked up, surprised. "You had that new surgery done, then? Does it work?"

"Brilliantly," Harry turned, still sounding rather distracted. He closed his eyes. "Hold on, I'm trying to contact her now."

A moment later, he rubbed his eyes and looked up again. "She's not answering." He moved over to the fireplace. "Draco, do you mind?"

"No, go right ahead."

Harry threw some sort of powder into the fireplace and muttered an incantation. A moment later, there was a patch of green flames and what appeared to be a disembodied head floating in the midst.

Scully drew back, appalled, until she realizedthe headwas Harry's friend Ron they'd met the other day. He grinned at Harry. "Hey, what's happening? Any news on your mum?"

"We've sort of had a bump in the road," Harry informed him. "Have you seen Hermione?"

"Not since the last time I saw you." Ron frowned. "Why, is she okay?"

Harry folded his arms. "Turns out Hermione's boyfriend is sort of a homicidal maniac. Can you contact all of our friends, see if anyone knows where she is?"

"Sure thing."

A moment later, the head was gone. Doggett leaned over to Scully. "I'm not the only one who saw a floating head, right?"

"Right," Scully confirmed, still hardly believing it herself. "Seems like a telephone would be a whole lot more convenient..."

Harry turned back to them, his face completely expressionless. "Well, it seems that Hermione is nowhere to be found just a few hours after going to pick up an unkillable alien from the airport."

Reyes exchanged a glance with Scully and looked back to Harry uncertainly. "I'm sure she's all right, Harry."

Harry pressed his eyes shut. "I know she's still alive. I can feel it." When he opened them again, there was pure and unadulterated rage in his eyes, so much so that Scully found herself stepping away from him. "And if Krychek does anything to hurt her, I'll tear him limb from limb."

Mulder paused just outside of the cave, making certain that no one was watching. As he moved closer to the entrance, he wondered to himself why it was that aliens seemed to choose caves and abandoned buildings as their bases.

"If they were really smart," he mused to himself, "they'd hang out right in the middle of Vegas, where no one would notice them."

But then, the supersoldiers never asked his opinion on that sort of thing.

Confident that he wasn't being trailed, Mulder entered the cave. He moved silently along the rock floor, his gun secured firmly in his hands, his heart pulsing with adrenaline. As much as he had hated the fight with Scully earlier, she'd been right about some things–namely, that he missed the excitement of the alien hunt. Being cooped up in motel after motel was definitely not his style.

_But I'd do anything for her_, he reminded himself, and knew it was true. Scully couldn't see that, but everything he did was motivated to help her, even if it was indirectly. By finding the truth and exposing conspiracy, he could make the world safer for her and their son.

He pushed the thought from his mind, knowing that he'd have to be completely aware of his surroundings to avoid capture. Of all the nasty oogly-booglies he'd encountered in his time, the supersoldiers were by far the most formidable of opponents. One slip-up and he was a goner.

As he neared the heart of the cave, Mulder heard the hum of machinery and the low murmur of voices. He pressed closer to the walls, careful now to stick to the shadows and only move when he knew the way was clear. Twice, supersoldier guards passed right by him, not noticing him amidst the shadows playing against the rock. Silently, he thanked the powers that be for prompting him to choose dark jeans and a black t-shirt earlier that morning instead of the neon green he'd been considering.

Finally he found himself in sight of the base. In a twenty foot incline below, a group of supersoldiers stood lined up against a wall of rock, staring blankly out ahead of them. There was a medical gurney in the middle of the incline on which a woman was strapped and bound. One man stood at the front, giving orders to the other men.

Mulder inched closer, squinting to make out the faces in the darkness of the room. As he recognized not one but two of the people, he clamped his mouth shut to keep from crying out. The woman on the gurney was Hermione, and the man giving the instructions was none other than Krychek.

It was all Mulder could do not to rush down there and attack Krychek then and there. Even before Krychek had alligned himself with the supersoldiers, Mulder could hardly stand to be in the same room with the man without punching or kicking or shooting at him. Scully had always joked it was a constant testosterone display between them, but it was more than that: he hated Krychek with every fiber of his being for betraying him, for pretending to be his friend and confidant and then stabbing him in the back.

"...is complete," Krychek was saying, his hands clasped behind his back. "Now we can move on to phase two. You know what to do."

The supersoldiers nodded their assent and then began to scale the walls of the incline. Mulder moved back into the shadows, watching warily as they passed him by. None seemed to notice. Finally, it was only Krychek and Hermione.

Mulder crawled back to his earlier vantage point. It was even more difficult to keep himself from attacking Krychek now, but Mulder knew he was no match for him with his supersoldier strength. Krychek seemed completely unaware of him as he leaned down to Hermione, stroking her hair.

"It's been fun–really, it has," Krychek murmured, staring intently at the witch, "but we've learned all we need to know from you. Sorry it had to end this way."

Hermione spat in his face. "Bite me."

Krychek merely laughed at this, wiping at the spittle. "I always admired that about you, Hermione–your spunk. But unfortunately," he grabbed her hair roughly, lifting her head off the table, "been there, done that."

With that, he slammed her head back against the metal. Hermione gave a little moan and then her body slumped down, unconscious. Krychek stepped back, staring at Hermione for a moment longer, then moved to climb up the side of the wall.

Mulder scrambled back into the shadow, waiting in silence. Krychek moved past him, stopping a few feet away. He turned his head back and stared into the shadows, his eyes seeming to bore right into Mulder. Heart racing, Mulder held his breath.

Krychek stared a moment longer and then turned and exited the cave.

When he was sure he was gone, Mulder moved over to the incline and climbed down the wall, coming to a stop beside Hermione. He examined her quickly. There were some bruises on her face, as well as some cuts and dried blood, but she didn't seem to be too injured. Still, she was unconscious, and her arms and legs were bound which meant she wouldn't be able to climb out herself.

"Come on, Hermione," Mulder urged quietly, "I could really use some of that magic right now."

Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She looked at him, dazed. "Harry?"

"Not the last time I checked." Mulder helped her sit up, which was a feat in itself; she seemed scarcely able to hold up her head. "Don't suppose I'm gonna get any of that magical help, am I?"

Hermione only smiled at him. "Harry, I'm so glad it's you. I thought I'd never see you again..."

Mulder sighed. "Okay, here we go." He took her shackled arms and placed them around his neck; the chain connecting her hands caught around his neck, allowing him to carry her while simultaneously freeing his hands.

Making certain that she was secured, he moved to the rock wall and began to slowly climb up. "Glad I've been going to the gym," he grunted as he began to climb.

Now he only wished he'd actually worked out when he was there instead of spending all the time looking at the fitness magazines...

Reyes slipped out of the room, sucking in a huge breath of relieved air. It had been two hours since Harry had contacted Ron and no one had seen any sign of Hermione. And as each minute ticked by without any word from his friend, Harry seemed to become more and more ominous. He was currently pacing the room, refusing to talk to anyone, mumbling to himself as his eyes flashed and the scar on his forehead throbbed.

Reyes had watched all she could take and then finally played her "I need to go to the bathroom" card, knowing it was her only chance to escape. Out in the hallway, she leaned against the fireplace mantle, steadying herself.

"Not a pretty picture, is it?" a familiar British voice inquired.

Reyes turned to see Draco standing a few feet away, smiling sympathetically. She smiled in return, glancing back toward the doors that now separated her from Harry. "I've never seen anyone so distraught before," she admitted, "it's a little--"

"Terrifying?" Draco nodded. "Take it from a former enemy of the Boy Who Lived– I would have done pretty much anything to make his life miserable, but even I knew that it wasn't wise to mess with Hermione. Harry could put up with an awful lot, but she was always his limit. The second you crossed her, the beast inside came out."

Reyes hugged herself, shivering. "I hope she's all right. For her sake, and for his."

Draco nodded. "Me, too."

A moment of silence passed between them. Reyes turned to Draco, tilting her head to study him. "You were really once Harry's enemy? I mean, he told us you were a bully, but enemy seems like an awfully strong word."

Draco met her gaze, smiled. "Let's just say I wasn't always such a gentleman. Time was, I was part of a group that was trying to destroy the world as we know it."

Reyes thought back to their confrontation the night before, to the rage she'd seen in his eyes. She shrugged. "Every teenager goes through a phase."

He blinked in surprise at this, and actually laughed. "That's a very open-minded way of looking at things."

She smiled in return. "I'm a very open-minded girl."

They remained like that for a moment, and Reyes reflected on how strangely handsome Draco was. He wasn't the sort that could be called conventionally handsome– he didn't have the squared chin or the broad shoulders–but there was something oddly beautiful about him. And also incredibly attractive.

As though he could read her mind, Draco stepped in closer, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. "Does that open-mindedness extend into all aspects of life?"

Coyly, Reyes leaned back against the fireplace. "I suppose you could say that..."

There was a rumbling and suddenly the wall behind Reyes began to shift. Draco grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the way as the wall behind her fell back, revealing a secret passageway.

"What the...?" Reyes turned to Draco. "Did you know about this?"

He shook his head. "Never saw it before in my life."

Together they stared, uncertain of how to proceed. Finally, Draco cleared his throat. "Well, should we?"

Reyes smiled, motioning to the entryway. "After you."

Pulling out his wand, Draco ducked his head and climbed inside. "As you wish..."

Scully watched as Harry continued to pace the room. He'd been pacing for nearly two hours now and she feared he'd become ill if he continued at it. She hesitated, then rose to her feet and crossed over to him. "Harry."

Harry continued mumbling to himself, scarcely seeming to have heard her.

Taking in a deep breath, Scully reached out and took him by the shoulders, forcing him to stop. "Harry, look at me."

Harry obediently stopped, staring uncomprehendingly at her for a moment before his eyes finally focused on her face. "We could send out Hedwig," he said.

Scully blinked at him in surprise. "What?"

"We could send out Hedwig," he repeated, as though it was perfectly obvious.

Scully glanced back at Doggett, wondering if this made any more sense to him. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I think he's lost it," Scully mouthed to him.

"It's his owl."

Scully whirled to see that Ron's head was in the fireplace once again. Doggett let out a yelp and fell off the sofa. He picked himeslf up a moment later, looking rather embarrassed. "I wish you'd warn us before you did that..."

"Sorry." Ron turned his gaze to Scully. "Hedwig is Harry's owl. If you send out a message to Hermione with Harry's owl, he'll find her if she's anywhere to be found."

"Well, I suppose it's as good an idea as any." She turned to Harry. "How do I...send a message with the owl?"

"Just write something on a piece of paper and give it to him," Harry murmured, staring somewhere beyond her. "Hedwig'll find her."

Scully moved to write out the note, then turned back, touching Harry's arm. "Harry. Harry. She'll be all right."

The rage inside of Harry's eyes dwindled for the briefest moment. He nodded at her, giving a half smile.

Satisfied with this, Scully moved over to the table to write a note. She searched her pockets for a pen but came up empty.

"Here."

Gratefully, Scully took the proferred pen from Doggett and began to write out a note.

Something inside Doggett's suit coat began to buzz. "Excuse me." He pulled it out, frowning at the displayed name. "It's Mulder."

Scully felt her heart leap at the sound of the name and watched anxiously as Doggett flipped the phone open. "Agent Mulder? Yeah. Where have you been?" Doggett paused, frowning. "What? Yeah, we've been looking everywhere for her."

Harry crossed the room anxiously. "Has he seen Hermione?"

Doggett moved the phone away from his mouth. "He's on his way back with her, says they're about twenty minutes away." He looked to Scully. "He found her at the supersoldier base, along with Krychek. They were able to sneak away."

Harry's hands were trembling violently. "Is she okay? Did he hurt her?"

Doggett repeated the question into the phone, then looked back up. "Mulder says she's a little beat up but she'll be okay."

The relief on Harry's face was almost palpable. He sunk to the ground, covering his face with his hands. "Thank God...thank God."

From the fireplace, Ron let out a whoop of joy. "I knew she'd be okay!"

"All right, Mulder. We'll see you then."

Scully let out a sigh of relief, exchanging a smile with Doggett. She had just moved to offer some comfort to Harry when the doors opened and Reyes and Draco entered the room.

"Good news," Doggett informed them, "Mulder found Hermione. She's all right."

Harry rose to his feet, his face determined. "We'll have to get things ready for her, make sure she can be treated if she has any substantial wounds--"

Draco held up a hand. "Hold off on that for just a minute. There's something you need to hear first."

Harry shook his head. "Whatever it is, it can wait. Hermione's first priority."

Reyes took in a deep breath. "With all due respect, Harry, I think you'll want to hear this."

Scully turned her gaze to Draco and found that he was even more pale than usual. He looked at them grimly. "While out in the hallway, Agent Reyes and I came upon a secret passageway that I've never seen before. I think it must have been a secret to everyone but my father. Anyway, we followed it down to a back room where my father had stored everything he wanted to keep secret– documents from his Death Eater meetings, plans to attack the Muggles, things like that."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered from the fireplace.

Reyes shook her head. "That's not the least of it."

"Unfortunately not." Draco cleared his throat. "Most of the books were marked, categorized by what was inside– my father was a horrible neat freak, I'm afraid. But one of the books was blank, unmarked. Naturally, that was the one that attracted my attention first."

Harry was clearly growing frustrated. "Can we get to the point? Hermione and Mulder will be back any minute."

Draco met his gaze levelly. "The point, Harry, is that the book was a wedding album. The groom was my father...and the bride was your mother."

Oh, I'm so evil. Review!


	9. So I Dated a Supersoldier

**The Point of No Return**

_author's note_: To all the H/Hr fans who have felt a little shunned due to recent events...I don't care what the books say. I don't care what the fans say. I don't even care what JKR says. Just because something's popular doesn't mean it's right! Here's to the minority.

**chapter nine: So I Dated a Supersoldier**

Hermione awoke to find herself in a plush, warm bed, surrounded by a lavish comforter and dozens of fluffy pillows. Moaning, she attempted to sit up and was instantly reminded of the day before as pain shot through her head and ribcage; pressing her eyes shut, she lowered herself back down against the pillows.

A few seconds passed and then she heard the door creaking open. She looked up to see Harry tip-toeing into the room and could not help the smile that stretched out across her face, despite the pain she felt at her busted lip. "Harry."

"Hermione." Harry was at her side in an instant. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

"Fine, now that I'm here again." She looked around, frowning. "How did I get back here anyway?"

"Mulder," Harry explained. "Apparently he and Krychek go way back. He was investigating him and just happened to come across you."

"Lucky that." Forgetting her previous experience, Hermione attempted to sit up once again. She let out a gasp as sharp pain flooded through her chest.

Harry reached out, steadying her. His eyes were filled with worry. "Are you all right?"

Hermione forced a laugh. "Oh, you know me, Harry. It's really not all that bad– I'm just a wuss."

Ignoring this comment, Harry reached forward and felt her ribcage. As he pressed one particularly sore spot she couldn't help herself and yelped, clutching at his hand.

"I think one of the ribs is broken," Harry said quietly, and Hermione could tell it took all of his energy not to let his anger show. "You need to see a mediwitch. Someone who can heal you--"

"Not now."

He frowned at her. "Hermione, you can barely move. Let someone look you over, make sure you're all right--"

Hermione met his gaze, her lower lip trembling. "Harry, I just spent the last eight hours being poked and prodded by a man I once trusted while a group of strangers watched on. I was strapped down to a table and they did things to me that I don't ever want to mention, don't ever want to think about again. So please don't ask me to let a stranger in here right now to examine me. Not now."

Harry took a moment, processing this. He nodded. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm just glad you're okay."

Tentatively, he leaned forward and hugged her, taking great care not to injure her in any way. At the feel of his arms around her, Hermione felt her eyes flood with tears. She never wanted him to let go of her. It was the safest she'd ever felt in her entire life.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment. Harry pulled back, wiping at his own eyes. "Come in."

The door creaked open and Ron stuck his head in. "Is this a bad time?"

Hermione grinned at him. "No, please. Come in."

Ron stopped in his tracks at the sight of her, did a double-take. The smile faded from his face. "What did they do to you?"

Hermione tightened her grip on Harry's hand, not wanting to repeat her outburst from before. Seeming to take the hint, Harry met Ron's gaze, shook his head. "How did you manage to get away from home?" he inquired, changing the subject.

Ron glanced to Hermione and forced a smile. "Luna's watching Arthur and there's nothing good on the telephone, so I thought I'd drop in."

Hermione exchanged a brief smile with Harry. Like his father, Ron was obsessed with Muggle artifacts but didn't really understand them. "There's nothing on the _television_," she corrected him. "You talk on the telephone, you watch tv."

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, right. That's what I meant." He seated himself next to Hermione's bed, opposite where Harry sat. "Hear you played a brilliant game today, Harry."

"Must've heard it from a blind man then," Harry returned, "It was the worst game of my life, including that time during seventh year when my right arm was broken."

Hermione frowned sympathetically. "It was that bad, huh?"

"Well, I didn't want to bring it up," Ron interjected, "But Ginny owled me right away to tell me how bad it went and..."

But his heart just wasn't in it. He shook his head, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I can't think about anything else. Did they catch the guy that did this to you, Hermione?"

"Ron," said Harry warningly.

Ron ran a hand through his hair. "I can't just pretend it's not there! My best friend comes home looking like this and I'm supposed to talk about Quidditch?" He turned to Hermione. "At least tell me you've called a Mediwitch. You look bloody awful."

"Hermione doesn't want to see any strangers right now," Harry informed him, "and I think we need to respect that."

"Well someone needs to treat her." Ron frowned as an idea popped into his head. "What about that agent– the red haired one. Didn't she say she's a doctor?"

"I don't know," Harry returned, "maybe."

Ron seemed pleased with himself. "Let her look at you, then. She's not a stranger."

"She's a muggle," Hermione argued.

"Yeah, but I bet she knows her stuff." Ron folded his arms. "Besides, you have to see someone and if you won't let a mediwitch come in than this is the next best thing."

Hermione could feel Harry's gaze upon her, waiting for her reaction. She sighed, admitting defeat. "Fine. But only Scully. I don't want everyone in here gawking at me..."

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Scully emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, her face grim. In an instant, Harry and Ron were upon her. "Well?" Ron demanded. "What's wrong with her?"

"A busted lip, several surface bruises on her body, two broken ribs, and puncture wounds."

Harry furrowed his brow. "What does all of that mean?"

"The bruises on her wrists and legs suggest that she was bound, and the puncture wounds indicate that she was being examined," Scully explained. She hesitated. "But the lip and broken ribs were done separately. Either she put up a fight and they were trying to restrain her, or they were just being cruel."

The two men took a moment to process this. "I'll kill him," Ron said after a moment. "The moment that rat shows his face, I'll murder him."

Scully turned to Harry, expecting him to make a similar threat, but he didn't have to. It was written there clearly in his eyes. The next time he saw Alex Krychek, he would make him suffer.

"There's more," Scully admitted. "When I was in there with her, I sort of let slip about your mother and Draco's father. I didn't mean any harm– I assumed you'd already told her."

Harry let out a deep breath. "It's all right. I think it's time we addressed this head-on. With everything else that's been going on, we haven't really had time to discuss it."

The truth of the matter was, Harry could scarcely allow himself to believe that his mother had once been married to Lucius Malfoy, the racist, elitist death eater who had been one of Voldemort's most avid supporters. Still, if Scully's vision had been interpreted correctly, Lily certainly hadn't gone into the marriage willingly; furthermore, no one in Harry's life had even so much as hinted to Harry that his mother had been married before, and Draco seemed just as shocked as he was. There was something very underhanded about the entire thing.

"I think you're right," Scully agreed. "I know that Draco certainly has questions, as do I."

Harry nodded. "Best get it over with now, I suppose. Can you and Ron round everyone up in Hermione's room?"

Ron exchanged a glance with Scully. "Do you think Hermione's up for it?"

"She won't want to be left out," Harry returned.

A few minutes later, the entire group had assembled in Hermione's bedroom. Harry waited until everyone had quieted down and then turned to address the group. "Let's just get into it then. I think it's safe to assume at this point that my mother was, in fact, married to Lucius Malfoy. So I guess the real question is–why was it kept hidden? And how is it that none of us had any indication whatsoever?"

Draco leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Those of you who knew my father know he dabbled in the black arts. It's possible that he cast a memory spell so pervasive that no one remembered he and Lily had ever been married, including Lily herself."

Ron frowned at this. "Is something like that even possible?"

"Yes," Hermione spoke up, "but it wouldn't be easy. And it's possible that there are a few wizards out there who were immune to the spell and remember reality as it was. I'm willing to wager one of those wizards is Dumbledore."

"He didn't really seem all that surprised when we told him about Scully's visions," Harry agreed, "and he was reluctant to tell us anything about it, which would suggest it was something like this he was hiding."

"That and Dumbledore knows freakin' everything," Ron added.

Reyes cleared her throat. "Look, I know I'm sort of an outsider in this, but it's possible that Lucius wasn't the one who perpetrated all of this. From the moment I entered this house, I've felt a strong connection to the supernatural, like someone's trying to contact us from beyond the grave. The place I felt the strongest connection was at the fireplace, where the entrance to Lucius's secret chamber was located. Maybe he was trying to contact us, show us the truth."

Draco cleared his throat. "Hate to burst your bubble," he said, "but there's no way my father was innocent in this. If there's anyone in this house trying to set things right from beyond the grave, it's..." He trailed off, shifting in his seat uneasily.

"Who?" Reyes pressed.

"Yeah," Ron spoke up, folding his arms. "I think at this point we all have a right to know. Especially if it can help us discover the truth about Harry's mum."

Draco took in a deep breath, finally nodded. "Most of you already know that my dad became a little unhinged after Voldemort died. Funny side-effect of losing one's life purpose, I suppose. We were all worried about him, but I always assumed that if he went off the deep-end, he'd only hurt himself."

He closed his eyes, turning his face away. "One morning I came downstairs and found both him and my mother at the fireplace. They were dead. My father had strangled her and then taken his own life."

Without realizing that she'd done it, Reyes reached out, touched his arm.

"I could never figure out why he did it," Draco concluded, seeming to have found renewed strength from Reyes' touch. "Guess it was finally too much for him. Voldemort's defeat, the end of the Death Eaters."

The group was silent for a moment, processing this information. Doggett cleared his throat. "Or maybe not. Maybe your mother found out the truth and he had to make sure it was kept quiet."

Scully frowned, nodded. "They were found at the fireplace– right at the entrance to your father's secret chamber. It isn't implausible."

Ron scratched his head, figuring out something in his mind. "If that's true, then there must be something more to it. I mean, your father was pretty desperate to hide that wedding, Malfoy."

"Maybe it ended bad," Mulder said, with only the faintest touch of humor to his voice.

Harry folded his arms. "I'm still not entirely certain this wedding thing is true. My mother and father were married right out of Hogwarts– she was only seventeen at the time, eighteen tops. When did she have time to fit in another wedding? And why would she ever marry Lucius Malfoy?" Remembering Draco was in the room, he gave a sheepish glance in his direction. "No offense."

"None taken."

Reyes ran a hand through her hair. "It does seem a little strange. But then, I hardly think it's a coincidence that Scully had a vision about your mother marrying Draco's father and we found a wedding album full of pictures from the blessed day. Unless Draco's father was really into photo-shopping..."

"Speaking of coincidences," Mulder spoke up, his normally jovial face grim, "I think we can all agree that it's no act of chance that Krychek is here in London, just when we happen to be doing the tourist thing."

Hermione flinched at the mention of the name; still, it was something that would have to be addressed sooner or later, and so she braced herself before jumping in: "But Alex– Krychek– and I have been dating for months, long before you ever came. How could he have known that you would all be here?"

Mulder shrugged. "However it is the supersoldiers always know everything. Although I'm not entirely unconvinced that this isn't a project that's long been in the works. Think of it– aliens come to the earth to study our life forms, right? And what more interesting test subjects can there be than the supernatural. The magical."

Hermione sighed, smiling wryly. "I should have known he had ulterior motives. He was a little too interested in Hogwarts: A History."

Harry managed a small smile at this, recalling his friend's longstanding interest in the book; still, it did little to evaporate the darkness that threatened to engulf him. It was all too much. The very idea that his mother had once been married to Lucius Malfoy, a man who had been one of Voldemort's most ardent supporters, a man so ruthless he had killed his wife with his bare hands...

And then there was the whole issue of the supersoldiers. Perhaps they'd chosen Hermione based solely on her own merits. Or perhaps Mulder was right. Perhaps it was all connected back to them, to Scully's visions. Which meant that it was also connected to him; Hermione had suffered, had been tortured and beaten, all because of him...

He felt the warm contact of skin and looked down to see Hermione's fingers closing over his hand. Even in the midst of her own agony she was still concerned first and foremost with his pain. She met his gaze.

_You didn't do this_, her eyes seemed to say.

Aloud, she murmured, "I'm getting tired, Harry. Do you think...?"

He turned to the others. "I think it's time we called it a night. Hermione needs to get some rest, and I think we can all afford to have some time to think."

Obediently, the crowd dispersed until it was just Harry, Ron, and Hermione once more. Ron paused at Hermione's bedside, moving in as though to hug her; but, remembering her injured rib, he instead took her hand.

"Let me know if you need anything," he said, his eyes full of uncharacteristic solemnity, "_anything_, Hermione, I mean it."

"Thanks, Ron."

After he'd left, Harry lingered for a moment, uncertain of how to voice the emotions inside of him. He settled finally for kissing her forehead. "I'm glad you're back, Hermione. I don't know what I'd do if..."

But even with her safe in Malfoy Manor, he couldn't bear to say the words. Instead he squeezed her hand, moved to go.

"Harry?"

He stopped in the doorway and turned back. To his surprise, Hermione's eyes were filled with tears; she seemed very young suddenly, as though she was still that little girl who'd been hiding in the bathroom when a troll wandered in and two reckless boys came to save her.

She attempted to smile, but it was wobbly at best. "I don't..." She swallowed, a few telltale tears trickling down her cheek. "I don't want to be alone."

Without needing any further prompting, Harry moved back into the room. He meant to take a chair by the bed, but Hermione held out a hand to him, pulling him up beside her on the plush mattress. Not wanting to hurt her, he merely lie there by her side, afraid to even touch her; after a few seconds, she was asleep.

He watched her for a moment, saw the gash in her lip and the bruises scattered across her body, heard her labored breathing. And for the first time in his life, he understood what it must have been like for his father to die at the hands of Voldemort, knowing he would next go after the woman he loved and helpless to stop it.

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Out in the hall, Ron was surprised to see Draco waiting for him. Despite Draco's newfound reformed personality, Ron still found he was a little wary and gripped the wand in his back pocket– just in case.

If Draco noticed, he didn't let on. "How is she?" he asked.

"As well as can be expected," Ron returned, "considering."

Draco nodded, seeming to absorb this. "And I suppose Harry's staying with her?"

Ron could not help the suspicion that Draco was up to something and heard an edge creep into his voice. "Yeah– what of it?"

"He's a little preoccupied right now," Draco explained, "so I think it's best that you and I take matters into our own hands."

Despite himself, Ron felt his heart jump with excitement. "You mean attack Krychek and his E.T. friends?"

Draco frowned at this. "No– not exactly what I had in mind." He took in a deep breath, seeming to steel himself. "I think it's time we make a little visit to Dumbledore."

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